1 


FOUR-POOLS 
MYSTERY 


THE  FOUR-POOLS 
MYSTERY 


UN-LYLJlSiTY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  AISGELES 


In  the  Cave 


THE  FOUR-POOLS 
MYSTERY 


NEW  YORK 
THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1908 


Copyright,  1907,  1908,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 


Published,  March,  1908 


THE   OE  VINNE   PRESS 


PS 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

i  INTRODUCING  TERRY  PATTEN  ....  3 

n    I  ARRIVE  AT  FOUR-POOLS  PLANTATION  .  14 

in    I   MAKE    THE   ACQUAINTANCE   OF    THE 

HA'NT     .........     .  26 

iv  THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS  ...  39 

v  CAT-EYE  MOSE  CREATES  A  SENSATION  .  58 

vi  WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE  ....  76 

vii  WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN  ....  92 

vin  THE  ROBBERY  REMAINS  A  MYSTERY  .  108 

ix  THE  EXPEDITION  TO  LURAY  .  .  .  .  119 

x  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  CAVE  ....  135 

xi  THE  SHERIFF  VISITS  FOUR-POOLS      .     .  143 

xii  I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY  .     .     .     .  151 

xni  THE  INQUEST        ........  168 

xiv  THE  JURY'S  VERDICT  .  .  .  186 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

xv  FALSE  CLUES 196 

xvi  TERRY  COMES 206 

xvii  WE  SEARCH  THE  ABANDONED  CABINS     .  222 

xvin  TERRY  ARRIVES  AT  A  CONCLUSION      .      .  247 

xix  TERRY  FINDS  THE  BONDS 262 

xx  POLLY  MAKES  A  CONFESSION    ....  271 

xxi  MR.    TERENCE   KIRKWOOD    PATTEN    OF 

NEW  YORK 285 

xxii  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  CAT-EYE  MOSE  .      .  296 

xxni  MOSE  TELLS  His  STORY 314 

xxiv  POLLY  MAKES  A  PROPOSAL 329 


vi 


THE  FOUR-POOLS 
MYSTERY 


THE  FOUR-POOLS 
MYSTERY 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCING  TERRY  PATTEN 

IT  was  through  the  Patterson-Pratt  for 
gery  case  that  I  first  made  the  acquaint 
ance  of  Terry  Patten,  and  at  the  time  I 
should  have  been  more  than  willing  to  forego 
the  pleasure. 

Our  firm  rarely  dealt  with  criminal  cases, 
but  the  Patterson  family  were  long  standing 
clients,  and  they  naturally  turned  to  us  when 
the  trouble  came.  Ordinarily,  so  important  a 
matter  would  have  been  put  in  the  hands  of 
one  of  the  older  men,  but  it  happened  that  I 
was  the  one  who  had  drawn  up  the  will  for 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Patterson  Senior  the  night  before  his  suicide, 
therefore  the  brunt  of  the  work  devolved 
upon  me.  The  most  unpleasant  part  of  the 
whole  affair  was  the  notoriety.  Could  we 
have  kept  it  from  the  papers,  it  would  not 
have  been  so  bad,  but  that  was  a  physical  im 
possibility;  Terry  Patten  was  on  our  track, 
and  within  a  week  he  had  brought  down  upon 
us  every  newspaper  in  New  York. 

The  first  I  ever  heard  of  Terry,  a  card  was 
sent  in  bearing  the  inscription,  "Mr.  Terence 
K.  Patten,"  and  in  the  lower  left-hand  corner, 
"of  the  Post-Dispatch."  I  shuddered  as  I 
read  it.  The  Post-Dispatch  was  at  that 
time  the  yellowest  of  the  yellow  journals. 
While  I  was  still  shuddering,  Terry  walked 
in  through  the  door  the  office  boy  had  inad 
vertently  left  open. 

He  nodded  a  friendly  good  morning, 
helped  himself  to  a  chair,  tossed  his  hat  and 
gloves  upon  the  table,  crossed  his  legs  com 
fortably,  and  looked  me  over.  I  returned  the 
scrutiny  with  interest  while  I  was  mentally 
framing  a  polite  formula  for  getting  rid  of 
him  without  giving  rise  to  any  ill  feeling.  I 


INTRODUCING  TERRY  PATTEN 

had  no  desire  to  annoy  unnecessarily  any  of 
the  Post-Dispatch's  young  men. 

At  first  sight  my  caller  did  not  strike  me  as 
unlike  a  dozen  other  reporters.  His  face  was 
the  face  one  feels  he  has  a  right  to  expect  of  a 
newspaper  man — keen,  alert,  humorous;  on 
the  look-out  for  opportunities.  But  with  a 
second  glance  I  commenced  to  feel  interested. 
I  wondered  where  he  had  come  from  and 
what  he  had  done  in  the  past.  His  features 
were  undeniably  Irish;  but  that  which  chiefly 
awakened  my  curiosity,  was  his  expression.  It 
was  not  only  wide-awake  and  intelligent;  it 
was  something  more.  "Knowing"  one  would 
say.  It  carried  with  it  the  mark  of  experience, 
the  indelible  stamp  of  the  street.  He  was  a 
man  who  has  had  no  childhood,  whose  educa 
tion  commenced  from  the  cradle. 

I  did  not  arrive  at  all  of  these  conclusions 
at  once,  however,  for  he  had  finished  his  in 
spection  before  I  had  fairly  started  mine. 
Apparently  he  found  me  satisfactory.  The 
smile  which  had  been  lurking  about  the  cor 
ners  of  his  mouth  broadened  to  a  grin,  and 
I  commenced  wondering  uncomfortably  what 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

there  was  funny  about  my  appearance.  Then 
suddenly  he  leaned  forward  and  began 
talking  in  a  quick,  eager  way,  that  required 
all  my  attention  to  keep  abreast  of  him. 
After  a  short  preamble  in  which  he  set  forth 
his  view  of  the  Patter son-Pratt  case — and  a 
clearsighted  view  it  was — he  commenced  ask 
ing  questions.  They  were  such  amazingly 
impudent  questions  that  they  nearly  took  my 
breath  away.  But  he  asked  them  in  a  manner 
so  engagingly  innocent  that  I  found  myself 
answering  them  before  I  was  aware  of  it. 
There  was  a  confiding  air  of  bonne  camara 
derie  about  the  fellow  which  completely  put 
one  off  one's  guard. 

At  the  end  of  fifteen  minutes  he  was  on  the 
inside  track  of  most  of  my  affairs,  and  was 
giving  me  advice  through  a  kindly  desire  to 
keep  me  from  getting  things  in  a  mess.  The 
situation  would  have  struck  me  as  ludicrous 
had  I  stopped  to  think  of  it;  but  it  is  a  fact 
I  have  noted  since,  that,  with  Terry,  one  does 
not  appreciate  situations  until  it  is  too  late. 

When  he  had  got  from  me  as  much  in 
formation  as  I  possessed,  he  shook  hands  cor- 


INTRODUCING  TERRY  PATTEN 

dially,  said  he  was  happy  to  have  made  my 
acquaintance,  and  would  try  to  drop  in  again 
some  day.  After  he  had  gone,  and  I  had  had 
time  to  review  our  conversation,  I  began  to 
grow  hot  over  the  matter.  I  grew  hotter  still 
when  I  read  his  report  in  the  paper  the  next 
morning.  I  could  not  understand  why  I  had 
not  kicked  him  out  at  first  sight,  and  I  sin 
cerely  hoped  that  he  would  drop  in  again,  that 
I  might  avail  myself  of  the  opportunity. 

He  did  drop  in,  and  I  received  him  with  the 
utmost  cordiality.  There  was  something  en 
tirely  disarming  about  Terry's  impudence. 
And  so  it  went.  He  continued  to  comment 
upon  the  case  in  the  most  sensational  manner 
possible,  and  I  railed  against  him  and  forgave 
him  with  unvarying  regularity.  In  the  end 
we  came  to  be  quite  friendly  over  the  affair. 
I  found  him  diverting  at  a  time  when  I  was 
in  need  of  diversion,  though  just  what  attrac 
tion  he  found  in  me,  I  have  never  been  able  to 
fathom.  It  was  certainly  not  that  he  saw  a 
future  source  of  "stories,"  for  he  frankly  re 
garded  corporation  law  as  a  pursuit  devoid  of 
interest.  Criminal  law  was  the  one  branch 

m 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

of  the  profession  for  which  he  felt  any 
respect. 

We  frequently  had  lunch  together;  or 
breakfast,  in  his  case.  His  day  commenced 
about  noon  and  lasted  till  three  in  the  morn 
ing.  "Well,  Terry,  what  's  the  news  at  the 
morgue  today?"  I  would  inquire  as  we  settled 
ourselves  at  the  table.  And  Terry  would  rat 
tle  off  the  details  of  the  latest  murder  mystery 
with  a  cheerfully  matter-of-fact  air  that 
would  have  been  disgusting  had  it  not  been  so 
funny. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  I  learned  his  history 
prior  to  the  days  of  the  Post-Dispatch.  He 
was  entirely  frank  about  himself,  and  if  one 
half  of  his  stories  were  true,  he  has  achieved 
some  amazing  adventures.  I  strongly  sus 
pected  at  times  that  the  reporting  instinct  got 
ahead  of  the  facts,  and  that  he  embroidered 
incidents  as  he  went  along. 

His  father,  Terry  Senior,  had  been  an  Irish 
politician  of  considerable  ability  and  some 
prominence  on  the  East  River  side  of  the  city. 
The  boy's  early  education  had  been  picked  up 
in  the  streets  (his  father  had  got  the  truant 


INTRODUCING  TERRY  PATTEN 

officer  his  position)  and  it  was  thorough. 
Later  he  had  received  a  more  theoretical  train 
ing  in  the  University  of  New  York,  but  I 
think  it  was  his  early  education  which  stuck 
by  him  longest,  and  which,  in  the  end,  was 
probably  the  more  useful  of  the  two.  Armed 
with  this  equipment,  it  was  inevitable  that  he 
should  develop  into  a  star  reporter.  Not  only 
did  he  write  his  news  in  an  entertaining  form, 
but  he  first  made  the  news  he  wrote  about. 
When  any  sensational  crime  had  been 
committed  which  puzzled  the  police,  Terry 
had  an  annoying  way  of  solving  the  mys 
tery  himself,  and  publishing  the  full  partic 
ulars  in  the  Post-Dispatch  with  the  glory 
blatantly  attributed  to  "our  reporter."  The 
paper  was  fully  aware  that  Terence  K. 
Patten  was  an  acquisition  to  its  staff.  It  had 
sent  him  on  various  commissions  to  various 
entertaining  quarters  of  the  globe,  and  in  the 
course  of  his  duty  he  had  encountered  expe 
riences.  One  is  forced  to  admit  that  he  was 
not  always  fastidious  as  to  the  role  he  played. 
He  had  cruised  about  the  Mediterranean  as 
assistant  cook  on  a  millionaire's  yacht,  and 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

had  listened  to  secrets  between  meals.  He 
had  wandered  about  the  country  with  a 
monkey  and  a  hand-organ  in  search  of  a 
peddler  he  suspected  of  a  crime.  He 
had  helped  along  a  revolution  in  South 
America,  and  had  gone  up  in  a  captive 
war  balloon  which  had  broken  loose  and 
floated  off. 

But  all  this  is  of  no  concern  at  present. 
I  am  merely  going  to  chronicle  his  achieve 
ment  in  one  instance — in  what  he  himself  has 
always  referred  to  as  the  "Four-Pools  Mys 
tery."  It  has  already  been  written  up  in  re 
porter  style  as  the  details  came  to  light  from 
day  to  day.  But  a  ten-year-old  newspaper 
story  is  as  dead  as  if  it  were  written  on  parch 
ment,  and  since  the  part  Terry  played  was 
rather  remarkable,  and  many  of  the  details 
were  at  the  time  suppressed,  I  think  it  de 
serves  a  more  permanent  form. 

It  was  through  the  Patterson-Pratt  busi 
ness  by  a  roundabout  way  that  I  got  mixed 
up  in  the  Four-Pools  affair.  I  had  been 
working  very  hard  over  the  forgery  case;  I 
spent  every  day  on  it  for  nine  weeks — and 


INTRODUCING  TERRY  PATTEN 

nearly  every  night.  I  got  into  the  way  of 
lying  awake,  puzzling  over  the  details,  when 
I  should  have  been  sleeping,  and  that  is  the 
sort  of  work  which  finishes  a  man.  By  the 
middle  of  April,  when  the  strain  was  over,  I 
was  as  near  being  a  nervous  wreck  as  an  ordi 
narily  healthy  chap  can  get. 

At  this  stage  my  doctor  stepped  in  and  or 
dered  a  rest  in  some  quiet  place  out  of  reach 
of  the  New  York  papers;  he  suggested  a 
fishing  expedition  to  Cape  Cod.  I  apathet 
ically  fell  in  with  the  idea,  and  invited  Terry 
to  join  me.  But  he  jeered  at  the  notion  of 
finding  either  pleasure  or  profit  in  any  such 
trip.  It  was  too  far  from  the  center  of  crime 
to  contain  any  interest  for  Terry. 

"Heavens,  man!  I  'd  as  lief  spend  a  vaca 
tion  in  the  middle  of  the  Sahara  Desert." 

"Oh,  the  fishing  would  keep  things  going," 
I  said. 

"Fishing!    We  'd  die  of  ennui  before  we 

had  a  bite.    I  'd  be  murdering  you  at  the  end 

of  the  first  week  just  for  some  excitement. 

If  you  need  a  rest — and  you  are  rather  seedy 

—forget  all  about  this  Patterson  business  and 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

plunge  into  something  new.  The  best  rest  in 
the  world  is  a  counter-irritant." 

This  was  Terry  all  over;  he  himself  was 
utterly  devoid  of  nerves,  and  he  could  not 
appreciate  the  part  they  played  in  a  man  of 
normal  make-up.  My  being  threatened  with 
nervous  prostration  he  regarded  as  a  joke. 
His  pleasantries  rather  damped  my  interest 
in  deep-sea  fishing,  however,  and  I  cast  about 
for  something  else.  It  was  at  this  juncture 
that  I  thought  of  Four-Pools  Plantation. 
"Four-Pools"  was  the  somewhat  fantastic 
name  of  a  stock  farm  in  the  Shenandoah  Val 
ley,  belonging  to  a  great-uncle  whom  I  had 
not  seen  since  I  was  a  boy. 

A  few  months  before,  I  had  had  occasion  to 
settle  a  little  legal  matter  for  Colonel  Gay- 
lord  (he  was  a  colonel  by  courtesy;  so  far  as 
I  could  discover  he  had  never  had  his  hands  on 
a  gun  except  for  rabbit  shooting)  and  in  the 
exchange  of  amenities  which  followed,  he  had 
given  me  a  standing  invitation  to  make  the 
plantation  my  home  whenever  I  should  have 
occasion  to  come  South.  As  I  had  no  pros 
pect  of  leaving  New  York,  I  thought  nothing 


INTRODUCING  TERRY  PATTEN 

of  it  at  the  time ;  but  now  I  determined  to  take 
the  old  gentleman  at  his  word,  and  spend  my 
enforced  vacation  in  getting  acquainted  with 
my  Virginia  relatives. 

This  plan  struck  Terry  as  just  one  degree 
funnier  than  the  fishing  expedition.  The  doc 
tor,  however,  received  the  idea  with  enthu 
siasm.  A  farm,  he  said,  with  plenty  of  out 
door  life  and  no  excitement,  was  just  the 
thing  I  needed.  But  could  he  have  foreseen 
the  events  which  were  to  happen  there,  I 
doubt  if  he  would  have  recommended  the 
place  for  a  nervous  man. 


CHAPTER  II 

I  ARRIVE  AT  FOUR-POOLS  PLANTATION 

A  I  rolled  southward  in  the  train — 
"jerked"  would  be  a  fitter  word;  the 
roadbeds  of  western  Virginia  are 
anything  but  level — I  strove  to  recall  my  old 
time  impressions  of  Four-Pools  Plantation. 
It  was  one  of  the  big  plantations  in  that  part 
of  the  state,  and  had  always  been  noted  for  its 
hospitality.  My  vague  recollection  of  the 
place  was  a  kaleidoscopic  vision  of  music  and 
dancing  and  laughter,  set  in  the  moonlit  back 
ground  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley.  I  knew, 
however,  that  in  the  eighteen  years  since  my 
boyhood  visit  everything  had  changed. 

News  had  come  of  my  aunt's  death,  and  of 
Nan's  runaway  marriage  against  her  father's 
wishes,  and  of  how  she  too  had  died  without 
ever  returning  home.  Poor  unhappy  Nannie ! 
I  was  but  a  boy  of  twelve  when  I  had  seen  her 


FOUR-POOLS  PLANTATION 

last,  but  she  had  impressed  even  my  unim 
pressionable  age  with  a  sense  of  her  charm.  I 
had  heard  that  Jeff,  the  elder  of  the  two  boys, 
had  gone  completely  to  the  bad,  and  having 
broken  with  his  father,  had  drifted  off  to  no 
one  knew  where.  This  to  me  was  the  saddest 
news  of  all;  Jeff  had  been  the  object  of  my 
first  case  of  hero  worship. 

I  knew  that  Colonel  Gaylord,  now  an  old 
man,  was  living  alone  with  Radnor,  who  I 
understood  had  grown  into  a  fine  young  fel 
low,  all  that  his  brother  had  promised.  My 
only  remembrance  of  the  Colonel  was  of  a  tall 
dark  man  who  wore  riding  boots  and  carried 
a  heavy  trainer's  whip,  and  of  whom  I  was 
very  much  afraid.  My  only  remembrance  of 
Rad  was  of  a  pretty  little  chap  of  four,  eter 
nally  in  mischief.  It  was  with  a  mingled  feel 
ing  of  eagerness  and  regret  that  I  looked  for 
ward  to  the  visit — eagerness  to  see  again  the 
scenes  which  were  so  pleasantly  associated 
with  my  boyhood,  and  regret  that  I  must  re 
new  my  memories  under  such  sadly  changed 
conditions. 

As  I  stepped  from  the  train,  a  tall  broad- 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

shouldered  young  man  of  twenty-three  or 
thereabouts,  came  forward  to  meet  me.  I 
should  have  recognized  him  for  Radnor  any 
where,  so  striking  was  his  resemblance  to  the 
brother  I  had  known.  He  wore  a  loose  flannel 
shirt  and  a  broad-brimmed  felt  hat  cocked  on 
one  side,  and  he  looked  so  exactly  the  typical 
Southern  man  of  the  stage  that  I  almost 
laughed  as  I  greeted  him.  His  welcome  was 
frank  and  cordial  and  I  liked  him  from  the 
first.  He  asked  after  my  health  with  an 
amused  twinkle  in  his  eyes.  Nervous  prostra 
tion  evidently  struck  him  as  humorously  as  it 
did  Terry.  Lest  I  resent  his  apparent  lack  of 
sympathy  however,  he  added,  with  a  hearty 
whack  on  my  shoulder,  that  I  had  come  to  the 
right  place  to  get  cured. 

A  drive  over  sweet  smelling  country  roads 
behind  blooded  horses  was  a  new  experience 
to  me,  fresh  from  city  streets  and  the  rumble 
of  elevated  trains.  I  leaned  back  with  a  sigh 
of  content,  feeling  already  as  if  I  had  got  my 
boyhood  back  again. 

Radnor  enlivened  the  three  miles  with  sto 
ries  of  the  houses  we  passed  and  the  people 


FOUR-POOLS  PLANTATION 

who  lived  in  them,  and  to  my  law-abiding 
Northern  ears,  the  recital  indubitably  smacked 
of  the  South.  This  old  gentleman— so  Rad 
called  him — had  kept  an  illicit  still  in  his 
cellar  for  fifteen  years,  and  it  had  not  been 
discovered  until  after  his  death  (of  delirium 
tremens) .  The  young  lady  who  lived  in  that 
house— one  of  the  belles  of  the  county — had 
eloped  with  the  best  man  on  the  night  before 
the  wedding  and  the  rightful  groom  had  shot 
himself.  The  one  who  lived  here  had  eloped 
with  her  father's  overseer,  and  had  rowed 
across  the  river  in  the  only  available  boat,  leav 
ing  her  outraged  parent  on  the  opposite  bank. 

I  finally  burst  out  laughing. 

"Does  everyone  in  the  South  run  away  to 
get  married?  Don't  you  ever  have  any  legiti 
mate  weddings  with  cake  and  rice  and  old 
shoes?"  As  I  spoke  I  remembered  Nannie 
and  wondered  if  I  had  touched  on  a  delicate 
subject. 

But  Radnor  returned  my  laugh. 

"We  do  have  a  good  many  elopements,"  he 
acknowledged.  "Maybe  there  are  more  cruel 
parents  in  the  South."  Then  he  suddenly 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

sobered.  "I  suppose  you  remember  Nan?"  he 
inquired  with  an  air  of  hesitation. 

"A  little,"  I  assented. 

"Poor  girl!"  he  said.  "I  'm  afraid  she  had 
a  pretty  tough  time.  You  'd  best  not  mention 
her  to  the  old  gentleman — or  Jeff  either." 

"Does  the  Colonel  still  feel  hard  toward 
them?" 

Radnor  frowned  slightly. 

"He  does  n't  forgive,"  he  returned. 

"What  was  the  trouble  with  Jeff?"  I  ven 
tured.  "I  have  never  heard  any  particulars." 

"He  and  my  father  did  n't  agree.  I  don't 
remember  very  much  about  it  myself;  I  was 
only  thirteen  when  it  happened.  But  I  know 
there  was  the  devil  of  a  row." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  is?"  I  asked. 

Radnor  shook  his  head. 

"I  sent  him  some  money  once  or  twice,  but 
my  father  found  it  out  and  shut  down  on  my 
bank  account.  I  Ve  lost  track  of  him  lately — he 
is  n't  in  need  of  money  though.  The  last  I  heard 
he  was  running  a  gambling  place  in  Seattle." 

"It  's  a  great  pity!"  I  sighed.  "He  was  a 
fine  chap  when  I  knew  him." 


FOUR-POOLS  PLANTATION 

Radnor  echoed  my  sigh  but  he  did  not 
choose  to  follow  up  the  subject,  and  we  passed 
the  rest  of  the  way  in  silence  until  we  turned 
into  the  lane  that  led  to  Four-Pools.  After 
the  manner  of  many  Southern  places  the 
house  was  situated  well  toward  the  middle  of 
the  large  plantation,  and  entirely  out  of  sight 
from  the  road.  The  private  lane  which  led  to 
it  was  bordered  by  a  hawthorn  hedge,  and 
wound  for  half  a  mile  or  so  between  pastures 
and  flowering  peach  orchards.  I  delightedly 
breathed  in  the  fresh  spring  odors,  wondering 
meanwhile  how  it  was  that  I  had  let  that 
happy  Virginia  summer  of  my  boyhood  slip 
so  entirely  from  my  mind. 

As  we  rounded  a  clump  of  willow  trees  we 
came  in  sight  of  the  house,  set  on  a  little  rise 
of  ground  and  approached  by  a  rolling  sweep 
of  lawn.  It  was  a  good  example  of  colonial — 
white  with  green  blinds,  the  broad  brick 
floored  veranda,  which  extended  the  length  of 
the  front,  supported  by  lofty  Doric  columns. 
On  the  south  side  a  huge  curved  portico 
bulged  out  to  meet  the  driveway.  Stretching 
away  behind  the  house  was  a  sleepy  box-bor- 

D9] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

dered  garden,  and  behind  this,  screened  by  a 
row  of  evergreens,  were  clustered  the  barns 
and  out-buildings.  Some  little  distance  to  the 
left,  in  a  slight  hollow  and  half  hidden  by  an 
overgrowth  of  laurels,  stood  a  row  of  one- 
story  weather-beaten  buildings — the  old  negro 
cabins,  left  over  from  the  slave  days. 

"It  's  just  as  I  remember  it!"  I  exclaimed 
delightedly  as  I  noted  one  familiar  object 
after  another.  "Nothing  has  changed." 

"Nothing  does  change  in  the  South,"  said 
Radnor,  "except  the  people,  and  I  suppose 
they  change  everywhere." 

"And  those  are  the  deserted  negro  cabins?" 
I  added,  my  eye  resting  on  the  cluster  of  gray 
roofs  showing  above  the  shrubbery. 

"Just  at  present  they  are  not  so  deserted  as 
we  should  like,"  he  returned  with  a  suggestive 
undertone  in  his  voice.  "You  visit  the  plan 
tation  at  an  interesting  time.  The  Gaylord 
ha'nt  has  reappeared." 

"The  Gaylord  ha'nt!"  I  exclaimed  in  aston 
ishment.  "What  on  earth  is  that?" 

Radnor  laughed. 

"One  of  our  godless  ancestors  once  beat  a 

C20] 


FOUR-POOLS  PLANTATION 

slave  to  death  and  his  ghost  comes  back,  off 
and  on,  to  haunt  the  negro  cabins.  We 
had  n't  heard  anything  of  him  for  a  good 
many  years  and  had  almost  forgotten  the 
story,  when  last  week  he  reappeared.  Devil 
fires  have  been  seen  dancing  in  the  laurels  at 
night,  and  mysterious  moanings  have  been 
heard  around  the  cabins.  If  you  have  ever 
had  anything  to  do  writh  negroes,  you  can 
know  the  state  our  servants  are  in." 

"Well!"  said  I,  "that  promises  entertain 
ment.  I  shall  look  forward  to  meeting  the 
ha'nt." 

We  had  reached  the  house  by  this  time,  and 
as  we  drew  up  before  the  portico  the  Colonel 
stood  on  the  top  step  waiting  to  welcome 
me.  He  was  looking  much  as  I  remem 
bered  him  except  that  his  hair  had  turned 
from  black  to  white,  and  his  former  imper 
ious  bearing  had  become  a  trifle  querulous. 
I  jumped  out  and  grasped  his  outstretched 
hand. 

"I  'm  glad  to  see  you,  my  boy!  I  'm  glad 
to  see  you,"  he  said  cordially. 

My  heart  warmed  toward  the  old  man's  "my 

[213 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

boy."  It  had  been  a  good  many  years  since 
anyone  had  called  me  that. 

"You  Ve  grown  since  I  saw  you  last,"  he 
chuckled,  as  he  led  the  way  into  the  house 
through  the  group  of  negro  servants  who  had 
gathered  to  see  me  arrive. 

My  first  fleeting  glimpse  through  the  open 
doors  told  me  that  it  was  indeed  true,  as  Rad 
nor  had  said,  nothing  had  changed.  The  fur 
niture  was  the  same  old-fashioned,  solidly 
simple  furniture  that  the  house  had  contained 
since  it  was  built.  I  was  amused  to  see  the 
Colonel's  gloves  and  whip  thrown  carelessly 
on  a  chair  in  the  hall.  The  whip  was  the  one 
token  by  which  I  remembered  him. 

"So  you  've  been  working  too  hard,  have 
you,  Arnold?"  the  old  man  inquired,  looking 
me  over  with  twinkling  eyes.  "We  '11  give 
you  something  to  do  that  will  make  you  for 
get  you  Ve  ever  seen  work  before !  There  are 
half  a  dozen  colts  in  the  pasture  just  spoiling 
to  be  broken  in;  you  may  try  your  hand  at 
that,  sir.  And  now  I  reckon  supper  's  about 
ready,"  he  added.  "Nancy  does  n't  allow  any 
loitering  when  it 's  a  question  of  beat  biscuits. 


FOUR-POOLS  PLANTATION 

Take  him  up  to  his  room,  Rad — and  you 
Mose,"  he  called  to  one  of  the  negroes  hang 
ing  about  the  portico,  "come  and  carry  up 
Marse  Arnold's  things." 

At  this  one  of  them  shambled  forward  and 
began  picking  up  my  traps  which  had  been 
dumped  in  a  pile  on  the  steps.  His  appear 
ance  struck  me  with  such  an  instant  feeling  of 
repugnance,  that  even  after  I  was  used  to 
the  fellow,  I  never  quite  overcame  that  first 
involuntary  shudder.  He  was  not  a  full- 
blooded  negro  but  an  octoroon.  His  color  was 
a  muddy  yellow,  his  features  were  sharp  in 
stead  of  flat,  and  his  hair  hung  across  his  fore 
head  almost  straight.  But  these  facts  alone 
did  not  account  for  his  queerness;  the  most 
uncanny  thing  about  him  was  the  color  of  his 
eyes.  They  had  a  yellow  glint  and  narrowed 
in  the  light.  The  creature  was  bare-footed 
and  wore  a  faded  suit  of  linsey-woolsey;  I 
wondered  at  that,  for  the  other  servants  who 
had  crowded  out  to  see  me,  were  dressed  in 
very  decent  livery. 

Radnor  noticed  my  surprise,  and  re 
marked  as  he  led  the  way  up  the  winding 

C23] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

staircase,  "Mose  is  n't  much  of  a  beauty,  for 
a  fact." 

I  made  no  reply  as  the  man  was  close  be 
hind,  and  the  feeling  that  his  eyes  were  boring 
into  the  middle  of  my  back  was  far  from 
pleasant.  But  after  he  had  deposited  his  load 
on  the  floor  of  my  room,  and,  with  a  sidewise 
glance  which  seemed  to  take  in  everything 
without  looking  directly  at  anything,  had 
shambled  off  again,  I  turned  to  Rad. 

"What  's  the  matter  with  him?"  I  de 
manded. 

Radnor  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"You  look  as  if  you  'd  seen  the  ha'nt! 
There  's  nothing  to  be  afraid  of.  He  does  n't 
bite.  The  poor  fellow  's  half  witted — at  least 
in  some  respects;  in  others  he  's  doubly 
witted." 

"Who  is  he?"  I  persisted.  "Where  did  he 
come  from?" 

"Oh,  he  's  lived  here  all  his  life — raised  on 
the  place.  We  're  as  fond  of  Mose  as  if  he 
were  a  member  of  the  family.  He  's  my 
father's  body  servant  and  he  follows  him 
around  like  a  dog.  We  don't  keep  him 

C24] 


FOUR-POOLS  PLANTATION 

dressed  for  the  part  because  shoes  and  stock 
ings  make  him  unhappy." 

"But  his  eyes,"  I  said.  "What  the  deuce  is 
the  matter  with  his  eyes?" 

Radnor  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Born  that  way.  His  eyes  are  a  little 
queer,  but  if  you  've  ever  noticed  it,  niggers' 
eyes  are  often,  yellow.  The  people  on  the 
place  call  him  'Cat-Eye  Mose.'  You  need  n't 
be  afraid  of  him,"  he  added  with  another 
laugh,  "he  's  harmless." 


C253 


CHAPTER  III 

I  MAKE  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  THE  HA*NT 

WE  had  a  sensation  at  supper  that 
night,  and  I  commenced  to  real 
ize  that  I  was  a  good  many  miles 
from  New  York.  In  response  to  the  invita 
tion  of  Solomon,  the  old  negro  butler,  we 
seated  ourselves  at  the  table  and  commenced 
on  the  cold  dishes  before  us,  while  he  with 
drew  to  bring  in  the  hot  things  from  the 
kitchen.  As  is  often  the  case  in  Southern 
plantation  houses  the  kitchen  was  under  a 
separate  roof  from  the  main  house,  and  con 
nected  with  it  by  a  long  open  gallery.  We 
waited  some  time  but  no  supper  arrived.  The 
Colonel,  becoming  impatient,  was  on  the  point 
of  going  to  look  for  it,  when  the  door  burst 
open  and  Solomon  appeared  empty-handed, 
every  hair  on  his  woolly  head  pointing  a  dif 
ferent  direction. 

C26] 


THE  HA'NT 

"De  ha'nt,  Marse  Gunnel,  de  ha'nt!  He  's 
sperrited  off  de  chicken.  Right  outen  de  oven 
from  under  Nancy's  eyes." 

"Solomon,"  said  the  Colonel  severely, 
"what  are  you  trying  to  say?  Talk  sense." 

"Sho  's  yuh  bohn,  Marse  Gunnel;  it  's  de 
libbin'  truf  I  's  tellin'  yuh.  Dat  ha'nt  has 
fotched  dat  chicken  right  outen  de  oven,  an' 
it 's  vanished  in  de  air." 

"You  go  out  and  bring  that  chicken  in  and 
don't  let  me  hear  another  word." 

"I  cayn't,  Marse  Gunnel,  'deed  I  cayn't. 
Dere  ain't  no  chicken  dere." 

"Very  well,  then !  Go  and  get  us  some  ham 
and  eggs  and  stop  this  fuss." 

Solomon  withdrew  and  we  three  looked  at 
each  other. 

"Rad,  what  's  the  meaning  of  this?"  the 
Colonel  demanded  querulously. 

"Some  foolishness  on  the  part  of  the  nig 
gers.  I  '11  look  into  it  after  supper.  When 
the  ha'nt  begins  abstracting  chickens  from  the 
oven  I  think  it 's  time  to  investigate." 

Being  naturally  curious  over  the  matter,  I 
commenced  asking  questions  about  the  history 

£27] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

and  prior  appearances  of  the  ha'nt.  Radnor 
answered  readily  enough,  but  I  noticed  that 
the  Colonel  appeared  restless  under  the  in 
quiry,  and  the  amused  suspicion  crossed  my 
mind  that  he  did  not  entirely  discredit  the 
story.  When  a  man  has  been  born  and 
brought  up  among  negroes  he  comes,  in  spite 
of  himself,  to  be  tinged  with  their  ideas. 

Supper  finished,  the  three  of  us  turned 
down  the  gallery  toward  the  kitchen.  As  we 
approached  the  door  we  heard  a  murmur  of 
voices,  one  rising  every  now  and  then  in  a 
shrill  wail  which  furnished  a  sort  of  chorus. 
Radnor  whispered  in  my  ear  that  he  reckoned 
Nancy  had  "got  um"  again.  Though  I  did 
not  comprehend  at  the  moment,  I  subse 
quently  learned  that  "um"  referred  to  a  sort 
of  emotional  ecstasy  into  which  Nancy  occa 
sionally  worked  herself,  the  motive  power  be 
ing  indifferently  ghosts  or  religion. 

The  kitchen  was  a  large  square  room,  with 
brick  floor,  rough  shack  walls  and  smoky  raf 
ters  overhead  from  which  pended  strings  of 
garlic,  red  peppers  and  herbs.  The  light  was 
supplied  ostensibly  by  two  tallow  dips,  but  in 

C28] 


THE  HA'NT 

reality  by  the  glowing  wood  embers  of  the 
great  open  stove  bricked  into  one  side  of  the 
wall. 

Five  or  six  excited  negroes  were  grouped 
in  a  circle  about  a  woman  with  a  yellow  tur 
ban  on  her  head,  who  was  rocking  back  and 
forth  and  shouting  at  intervals : 

"Oh-h,  dere  's  sperrits  in  de  air!  I  can 
smell  um.  I  can  smell  um." 

"Nancy!"  called  the  Colonel  sharply  as  we 
stepped  into  the  room. 

Nancy  paused  a  moment  and  turned  upon 
us  a  pair  of  frenzied  eyes  with  nothing  much 
but  the  whites  showing. 

"Marse  Gunnel,  dere  's  sperrits  in  de  air," 
she  cried.  "Sabe  yuhself  while  dere  's  time. 
We  's  all  a-treadin'  de  road  to  destruction." 

"You  '11  be  treading  the  road  to  destruction 
in  mighty  short  order  if  you  don't  keep  still," 
he  returned  grimly.  "Now  stop  this  foolish 
ness  and  tell  me  what  's  gone  with  that 
chicken." 

After  a  great  deal  of  questioning  and 
patching  together,  we  finally  got  her  story, 
but  I  cannot  say  that  it  threw  much  light 

C293 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

upon  the  matter.  She  had  put  the  chicken  in 
the  oven,  and  then  she  felt  powerful  queer,  as 
if  something  were  going  to  happen.  Suddenly 
she  felt  a  cold  wind  blow  through  the  room, 
the  candles  went  out,  and  she  could  hear  the 
rustle  of  "ghostly  gahments"  sweeping  past 
her.  The  oven  door  sprang  open  of  its  own 
accord;  she  looked  inside,  and  "dere  wa'  n't  no 
chicken  dere!" 

Repeated  questioning  only  brought  out  the 
same  statement  but  with  more  circumstantial 
details.  The  other  negroes  backed  her  up,  and 
the  story  grew  rapidly  in  magnitude  and  hor 
ror.  Nancy's  seizures,  it  appeared,  were  con 
tagious,  and  the  others  by  this  time  were  al 
most  as  excited  as  she.  The  only  approxi 
mately  calm  one  among  them  was  Cat-Eye 
Mose  who  sat  in  the  doorway  watching  the 
scene  with  half  furtive  eyes  and  something  re 
sembling  a  grin  on  his  face. 

The  Colonel,  observing  that  it  was  a  good 
deal  of  commotion  for  the  sake  of  one 
small  chicken,  disgustedly  dropped  the  in 
quiry.  As  we  stepped  out  into  the  gallery 
again,  I  glanced  back  at  the  dancing  firelight, 

C30] 


THE  HA'NT 

the  weird  cross  shadows,  and  the  circle  of 
dusky  faces,  with,  I  confess,  a  somewhat 
creepy  feeling.  I  could  see  that  in  such  an 
atmosphere,  it  would  not  take  long  for  super 
stition  to  lay  its  hold  on  a  man. 

"What 's  the  meaning  of  it?"  I  asked  as  we 
strolled  slowly  toward  the  house. 

"The  meaning  of  it,"  Radnor  shrugged,  "is 
that  some  of  them  are  lying.  The  ha'nt,  I 
could  swear,  has  a  good  flesh  and  blood  appe 
tite.  Nancy  has  been  frightened  and  she  be 
lieves  her  own  story.  There  's  never  any  use 
in  trying  to  sift  a  negro's  lies;  they  have  so 
much  imagination  that  after  five  minutes  they 
believe  themselves." 

"I  think  I  could  spot  the  ghost,"  I  re 
turned.  "And  that 's  your  precious  Cat-Eye 
Mose." 

Radnor  shook  his  head. 

"Mose  does  n't  need  to  steal  chickens.  He 
gets  all  he  wants." 

"Mose,"  the  Colonel  added  emphatically, 
"is  the  one  person  on  the  place  who  is  abso 
lutely  to  be  trusted." 

We  had  almost  reached  the  house,  when  we 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

were  suddenly  startled  by  a  series  of  shrieks 
and  screams  coming  toward  us  across  the 
open  stretch  of  lawn  that  lay  between  us  and 
the  old  negro  cabins.  In  another  moment  an 
old  woman,  her  face  twitching  with  terror, 
had  thrown  herself  at  our  feet  in  a  species  of 
convulsion. 

"De  ha'nt!  De  ha'nt!  He  's  a-beckon- 
ing,"  was  all  we  could  make  out  between  her 
moans. 

The  other  negroes  came  pouring  out  from 
the  kitchen  and  gathered  in  a  frenzied  circle 
about  the  writhing  woman.  Mose,  I  noted, 
was  among  them;  he  could  at  least  prove  an 
alibi  this  time. 

"Here  Mose,  quick!  Get  us  some  torches," 
Radnor  called.  "We  '11  fetch  that  ha'nt  up 
here  to  answer  for  himself. — It  's  old  Aunt 
Sukie,"  he  added  to  me,  nodding  toward  the 
woman  on  the  ground  whose  spasms  by  this 
time  were  growing  somewhat  quieter.  "She 
lives  on  the  next  plantation  and  was  probably 
taking  a  cross  cut  through  the  laurel  path  that 
leads  by  the  cabins.  She  's  almost  a  hundred 
and  is  pretty  nearly  a  witch  herself." 

£32  3 


THE  HA'NT 

Mose  shambled  up  with  some  torches — pine 
knots  dipped  in  tar,  such  as  they  used  for 
hunting  'possums  at  night,  and  he  and  I  and 
Radnor  set  out  for  the  cabins.  I  noticed  that 
none  of  the  other  negroes  volunteered  to  as 
sist;  I  also  noticed  that  Mose  went  on  ahead 
with  a  low  whining  cry  which  sent  chills  chas 
ing  up  and  down  my  back. 

"What  's  the  matter  with  him?"  I  gasped, 
more  intent  on  the  negro  than  the  ghost  we 
had  come  to  search. 

"That 's  the  way  he  always  hunts,"  Radnor 
laughed.  "There  are  a  good  many  things 
about  Mose  that  you  will  have  to  get  used  to." 

We  searched  the  whole  region  of  the  aban 
doned  quarters  with  a  considerable  degree  of 
thoroughness.  Three  or  four  of  the  larger 
cabins  were  used  as  store  houses  for  fodder; 
the  rest  were  empty.  We  poked  into  all  of 
them,  but  found  nothing  more  terrifying  than 
a  few  bats  and  owls.  Though  I  did  not  give 
much  consideration  to  the  fact  at  the  time,  I 
later  remembered  that  there  was  one  of  the 
cabins  which  we  did  n't  explore  as  thoroughly 
as  the  rest.  Mose  dropped  his  torch  as  we 

C33] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

entered,  and  in  the  confusion  of  relighting  it, 
the  interior  was  somewhat  slighted.  In  any 
case  we  unearthed  no  ha'nt  that  night;  and 
we  finally  gave  up  the  search  and  turned  back 
to  the  house. 

"I  suspect,"  Radnor  laughed,  "that  if  the 
truth  were  known,  old  Aunt  Sukie's  beckon 
ing  ha'nt  would  turn  out  to  be  nothing  more 
alarming  than  a  white  cow  waving  her  tail." 

"It  's  rather  suggestive  coming  on  top  of 
the  chicken  episode,"  I  observed. 

"Oh,  this  won't  be  the  end!  We  '11  have 
ha'nt  served  for  breakfast,  dinner  and  supper 
during  the  rest  of  your  stay.  When  the  nig 
gers  begin  to  see  things  they  keep  it  up." 

When  I  went  upstairs  that  night,  Rad  fol 
lowed  close  on  my  heels  to  see  that  I  had 
everything  I  needed.  The  room  was  a  huge 
four  windowed  affair,  furnished  with  a  cano 
pied  bed  and  a  mahogany  wardrobe  as  big  as 
a  small  house.  The  nights  still  being  chilly,  a 
roaring  wood  fire  had  been  built,  adding  a 
note  of  cheerfulness  to  an  otherwise  sombre 
apartment. 

"This  was  Nan's  room,"  he  said  suddenly. 


THE  HA'NT 

"Nan's  room!"  I  echoed  glancing  about  the 
shadowy  interior.  "Rather  heavy  for  a  girl." 

"It  is  a  trifle  severe,"  he  agreed,  "but  I  dare 
say  it  was  different  when  she  was  here.  Her 
things  are  all  packed  away  in  the  attic."  He 
picked  up  a  candle  and  held  it  so  that  it 
lighted  the  face  of  a  portrait  over  the  man 
tle.  "That  's  Nan — painted  when  she  was 
eighteen." 

"Yes,"  I  nodded.  "I  recognized  her  the 
moment  I  saw  it.  She  was  like  that  when  I 
knew  her." 

"It  used  to  hang  down  stairs  but  after  her 
marriage  my  father  had  it  brought  up  here. 
He  kept  the  door  locked  until  the  news  came 
that  she  was  dead,  then  he  turned  it  into  a 
guest  room.  He  never  comes  in  himself;  he 
won't  look  at  the  picture." 

Radnor  spoke  shortly,  but  with  an  under 
lying  note  of  bitterness.  I  could  see  that  he 
felt  keenly  on  the  subject.  After  a  few  de 
sultory  words,  he  somewhat  brusquely  said 
good  night,  and  left  me  to  the  memories  of 
the  place. 

Instead  of  going  to  bed  I  set  about  un- 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

packing.  I  was  tired  but  wide  awake.  Aunt 
Sukie's  convulsions  and  our  torch  light  hunt 
for  ghosts  were  novel  events  in  my  expe 
rience,  and  they  acted  as  anything  but  a  seda 
tive.  The  unpacking  finished,  I  settled 
myself  in  an  easy  chair  before  the  fire  and 
fell  to  studying  the  portrait.  It  was  a  huge 
canvas  in  the  romantic  fashion  of  Romney, 
with  a  landscape  in  the  background.  The  girl 
was  dressed  in  flowing  pink  drapery,  a  garden 
hat  filled  with  roses  swinging  from  her  arm, 
a  Scotch  collie  with  great  lustrous  eyes 
pressed  against  her  side.  The  pose,  the  at 
tributes,  were  artificial;  but  the  painter  had 
caught  the  spirit.  Nannie's  face  looked  out 
of  the  frame  as  I  remembered  it  from  long 
ago.  Youth  and  gaiety  and  goodness  trem 
bled  on  her  lips  and  laughed  in  her  eyes.  The 
picture  seemed  a  prophecy  of  all  the  happi 
ness  the  future  was  to  bring.  Nannie  at 
eighteen  with  life  before  her! 

And  three  years  later  she  was  dying  in  a 
dreary  little  Western  town,  separated  from 
her  girlhood  friends,  without  a  word  of  for 
giveness  from  her  father.  What  had  she  done 


THE  HA'NT 

to  deserve  this  fate?  Merely  set  up  her  will 
against  his,  and  married  the  man  she  loved. 
Her  husband  was  poor,  but  from  all  I  ever 
heard,  a  very  decent  chap.  As  I  studied  the 
eager  smiling  face,  I  felt  a  hot  wave  of  anger 
against  her  father.  What  a  power  of  vindic- 
tiveness  the  man  must  have,  still  to  cherish 
rancour  against  a  daughter  fifteen  years  in 
her  grave!  There  was  something  too  poig 
nantly  sad  about  the  unfulfilled  hope  of  the 
picture.  I  blew  out  the  candles  to  rid  my 
mind  of  poor  little  Nannie's  smile. 

I  sat  for  some  time  my  eyes  fixed  moodily 
on  the  glowing  embers,  till  I  was  roused  by 
the  deep  boom  of  the  hall  clock  as  it  slowly 
counted  twelve.  I  rose  with  a  laugh  and  a 
yawn.  The  first  of  the  doctor's  orders  had 
been,  "Early  to  bed!"  I  hastily  made  ready, 
but  before  turning  in,  paused  for  a  moment 
by  the  open  window,  enticed  by  the  fresh 
country  smells  of  plowed  land  and  sprouting 
green  things,  that  blew  in  on  the  damp  breeze. 
It  was  a  wild  night  with  a  young  moon  hang 
ing  low  in  the  sky.  Shadows  chased  them 
selves  over  the  lawn  and  the  trees  waved  and 

£87  ] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

shifted  in  the  wind.  It  had  been  a  long  time 
since  I  had  looked  out  on  such  a  scene  of 
peaceful  tranquillity  as  this.  New  York  with 
the  hurry  and  rush  of  its  streets,  with  the 
horrors  of  Terry's  morgue,  seemed  to  lie  in 
another  continent. 

But  suddenly  I  was  recalled  to  tHe  present 
by  hearing,  almost  beneath  me,  the  low  shud 
dering  squeak  of  an  opening  window.  I 
leaned  out  silently  alert,  and  to  my  surprise  I 
saw  Cat-Eye  Mose — though  it  was  pretty 
dark  I  could  not  be  mistaken  in  his  long  lop 
ing  run — slink  out  from  the  shadow  of  the 
house  and  make  across  the  open  space  of  lawn 
toward  the  deserted  negro  cabins.  As  he  ran 
he  was  bent  almost  double  over  a  large  black 
bundle  which  he  carried  in  his  arms.  Though 
I  strained  my  eyes  to  follow  him  I  could  make 
out  nothing  more  before  he  had  plunged  into 
the  shadow  of  the  laurels. 


C383 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

I  WAKED  early  and  hurried  through  with 
my  dressing,  eager  to  get  down  stairs  and 
report  my  last  night's  finding  in  regard 
to  Mose.  My  first  impulse  had  been  to  rouse 
the  house,  but  on  soberer  second  thoughts  I 
had  decided  to  wait  till  morning.  I  was  glad 
now  that  I  had ;  for  with  the  sunlight  stream 
ing  in  through  the  eastern  windows,  with  the 
fresh  breeze  bringing  the  sound  of  twittering 
birds,  life  seemed  a  more  cheerful  affair  than 
it  had  the  night  before,  and  the  whole  aspect 
of  the  ha'nt  took  on  a  distinctly  humorous 
tone. 

A  ghost  who  wafted  roast  chickens  through 
the  air  and  out  of  doors  on  a  breeze  of  its  own 
constructing,  appealed  to  me  as  having  an 
original  mind.  Since  my  midnight  discovery 
I  felt  pretty  certain  that  I  could  identify  the 

C39H 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

ghost;  and  as  I  recalled  the  masterly  way  in 
which  Mose  had  led  and  directed  the  hunt,  I 
decided  that  he  was  cleverer  than  Rad  had 
given  him  credit  for.  I  went  down  stairs  with 
my  eyes  and  ears  wide  open  prepared  for 
further  revelations.  The  problems  of  my 
profession  had  never  led  me  into  any  consid 
eration  of  the  supernatural,  and  the  rather 
evanescent  business  of  hunting  down  a  ha'nt 
came  as  a  welcome  contrast  to  the  very  mate 
rial  details  of  my  recent  forgery  case.  I  had 
found  what  Terry  would  call  a  counter-irri 
tant. 

It  was  still  early,  and  neither  the  Colonel 
nor  Radnor  had  appeared;  but  Solomon  was 
sweeping  off  the  portico  steps  and  I  ad 
dressed  myself  to  him.  He  was  rather  coy  at 
first  about  discussing  the  matter  of  the  ha'nt, 
as  he  scented  my  scepticism,  but  in  the  end  he 
volunteered : 

"Some  says  de  ha'nt  's  a  woman  dat  one  o' 
de  Gaylords  long  time  ago,  should  o'  married 
an'  did  n't,  an'  dat  pined  away  an'  died.  An' 
some  says  it  's  a  black  man  one  o'  dem 
whupped  to  deaf.;' 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

"Which  do  you  think  it  is?"  I  inquired. 

"Bress  yuh,  Marse  Arnold,  I  ain't  thinkin' 
nuff en.  Like  es  not  hit  's  bofe.  When  one 
sperrit  gits  oneasy  'pears  like  he  stir  up  all  de 
odders.  Dey  gets  so  lonely  like  lyin'  all  by 
dereselves  in  de  grave  dat  dey  're  'most  crazy 
for  company.  An'  when  dey  cayn't  get  each 
odder  dey  '11  take  humans.  De  human  what 's 
consorted  wid  a  gohs,  Marse  Arnold,  he  's 
nebber  hisself  no  moah.  He  's  sort  uh  half- 
minded  like  Mose." 

"Is  that  what  's  the  matter  with  Mose?"  I 
pursued  tentatively.  "Does  he  consort  with 
ghosts?" 

"Mose  was  bawn  dat  way,  but  I  reckon 
maybe  dat  was  what  was  de  matter  wid  his 
mudder,  an'  he  cotched  it." 

"That  was  rather  an  unusual  thing,  last  night, 
was  n't  it,  for  a  ha'nt  to  steal  a  chicken?" 

:  'Pears  like  ha'nts  must  have  dere  jokes 
like  odder  folkses,"  was  as  far  as  Solomon 
would  go. 

At  breakfast  I  repeated  what  I  had  seen 
the  night  before,  and  to  my  indignation  both 
Radnor  and  my  uncle  took  it  calmly. 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Mose  is  only  a  poor  half  witted  fellow  but 
he  's  as  honest  as  the  day,"  the  Colonel  de 
clared,  "and  I  won't  have  him  turned  into  a 
villain  for  your  entertainment." 

"He  may  be  honest,"  I  persisted,  "but  just 
the  same  he  knows  what  became  of  that 
chicken !  And  what 's  more,  if  you  look  about 
the  house  you  11  find  there  's  something  else 
missing." 

The  Colonel  laughed  good-naturedly. 

"If  it  raises  your  .suspicions  to  have  Mose 
prowling  around  in  the  night,  you  '11  have  to 
get  used  to  suspicions;  for  you  '11  have  'em 
during  the  rest  of  your  stay.  I  've  known 
Mose  to  stop  out  in  the  woods  for  three  nights 
running — he  's  as  much  an  animal  as  he  is  a 
man ;  but  he  's  a  tame  animal,  and  you  need  n't 
be  afraid  of  him.  If  you  'd  followed  him  and 
his  bundle  last  night  I  reckon  you  'd  have 
made  a  mighty  queer  discovery.  He  has  his 
own  little  amusements  and  they  are  n't  ex 
actly  ours,  but  since  he  does  n't  hurt  anybody 
what  's  the  use  in  bothering?  I  Ve  known 
Mose  for  well  on  to  thirty  years,  and  I  've 
never  yet  known  him  to  do  a  meanness  to  any 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

human  being.  There  are  n't  many  white 
folks  I  can  say  the  same  of." 

I  did  not  pursue  the  subject  with  the  Colo 
nel,  but  I  later  suggested  to  Rad  that  we 
continue  our  investigation.  He  echoed  his 
father's  laugh.  If  we  set  out  to  investigate 
all  the  imaginings  that  came  into  the  niggers' 
heads  we  should  have  our  hands  full,  was  his 
reply.  I  dropped  the  matter  for  the  time  be 
ing,  but  I  was  none  the  less  convinced  that 
Mose  and  the  ghost  were  near  relations;  and 
I  determined  to  keep  an  eye  on  him  in  the 
future,  at  least  in  so  far  as  one  could  keep  an 
eye  on  so  slippery  an  individual. 

In  pursuance  of  this  design,  I  took  the 
opportunity  that  first  morning,  while  Rad 
and  his  father  were  engaged  with  the  veter 
inary  surgeon  who  had  come  to  doctor  a  sick 
colt,  of  strolling  in  the  direction  of  the  de 
serted  cabins. 

It  was  a  damp  malarious  looking  spot, 
though  I  dare  say  in  the  old  days  when  the 
land  was  drained,  it  had  been  healthy  enough. 
Just  below  the  cabins  lay  the  largest  of  the 
four  pools  which  gave  the  plantation  its 

C43] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

name.  The  other  three  lying  in  the  pastures 
higher  up  were  used  for  watering  the  stock 
and  were  kept  clean  and  free  from  plant 
growth.  But  the  lower  pool,  abandoned  like 
the  cabins,  had  been  allowed  to  overflow  its 
banks  until  it  was  completely  surrounded  with 
rushes  and  lily  pads.  A  rank  growth  of  wil 
low  trees  hung  over  the  water  and  shut  out  all 
but  the  merest  glint  of  sunlight. 

Above  this  pool  the  cabins  stretched  in  a 
double  row  occupying  the  base  of  the  declivity 
on  which  the  "big  house"  stood.  There  were 
as  many  as  a  dozen,  I  should  think,  built  of 
logs  and  unpainted  shack,  consisting  for  the 
most  part  of  a  single  large  room,  though  a 
few  had  a  loft  above  and  a  rough  lean-to 
in  the  rear.  A  walk  bordered  by  laurels 
stretched  down  the  center  between  the  two 
rows,  and  as  the  trees  had  not  been  clipped  for 
a  good  many  years,  the  shade  was  somewhat 
sombre.  Add  to  this  the  fact  that  one  or  two 
of  the  roofs  had  fallen  in,  that  the  hinges 
were  missing  from  several  doors,  that  there 
was  not  a  whole  pane  of  glass  in  all  the  dozen 
cabins,  and  it  will  readily  be  seen  that  the 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

place  gave  rise  to  no  very  cheerful  fancies.  I 
wondered  that  the  Colonel  did  not  have  the 
houses  pulled  down ;  they  were  not  a  souvenir 
of  past  times  wrhich  I  myself  should  have 
cared  to  preserve. 

The  damp  earth  where  the  shade  was  thick 
est,  plainly  showed  the  marks  of  foot-prints — 
some  made  by  bare  feet,  some  by  shoes — but  I 
could  not  follow  them  for  more  than  a  yard 
or  so,  and  I  could  not  be  certain  they  were  not 
our  own  traces  of  the  night  before.  I  poked 
into  every  one  of  the  cabins,  but  found  noth 
ing  suspicious  about  their  appearance.  I  did 
not,  to  be  sure,  ascend  to  any  of  the  half 
dozen  lofts,  as  there  were  no  stairs  and  no 
suggestion  of  a  ladder  anywhere  about.  The 
open  traps  however  which  led  to  them  were  so 
thickly  festooned  with  spider  webs  and  dirt, 
that  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  anyone  had 
passed  through  for  a  dozen  years.  Finding 
no  sign  of  habitation,  either  human  or  spirit 
ual,  I  finally  turned  back  to  the  house  with  a 
philosophic  shrug  and  the  reflection  that  Cat- 
Eye  Mose's  nocturnal  vagaries  were  no  affair 
of  mine. 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

During  the  next  few  days  we  in  the  front 
part  of  the  house  heard  only  faint  echoes  of 
the  excitement,  though  I  believe  that  the 
ha'nt,  both  past  and  present,  was  the  chief 
topic  of  conversation  among  the  negroes,  not 
only  at  Four-Pools  but  among  the  neighbor 
ing  plantations  as  well.  I  spent  my  time 
those  first  few  days  in  getting  acquainted 
with  my  new  surroundings.  The  chief  busi 
ness  of  the  farm  was  horse  raising,  and  the 
Colonel  kept  a  well  stocked  stable.  A  riding 
horse  was  put  at  my  disposal,  and  in  company 
with  Radnor  I  explored  the  greater  part  of 
the  valley. 

We  visited  at  a  number  of  houses  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  but  there  was  one  in  particular  where 
we  stopped  most  frequently,  and  it  did  not 
take  me  long  to  discover  the  reason.  "Math 
ers  Hall",  an  ivy-covered  rambling  structure, 
red  brick  with  white  trimmings — in  style  half 
colonial,  half  old  English — was  situated  a 
mile  or  so  from  Four-Pools.  The  Hall  had 
sheltered  three  generations  of  Matherses,  and 
the  fourth  generation  was  growing  up .  There 
was  a  huge  family,  mostly  girls,  who  had  mar- 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

ried  and  moved  away  to  Washington  or  Rich 
mond  or  Baltimore.  They  all  came  back  in 
the  summer  however  bringing  their  babies 
with  them,  and  the  place  was  the  center  of 
gaiety  in  the  neighborhood.  There  was  just 
one  unmarried  daughter  left — Polly,  nineteen 
years  old,  and  the  most  heartlessly  charming 
young  person  it  has  ever  been  my  misfortune 
to  meet.  As  is  likely  to  be  the  case  with  the 
baby  of  a  large  family,  Polly  was  thoroughly 
spoiled,  but  that  fact  did  not  in  the  least 
diminish  her  charm. 

Report  had  it,  at  the  time  of  my  arrival, 
that  after  refusing  every  marriageable  man 
in  the  county,  she  was  now  trying  to  make  up 
her  mind  between  Jim  Mattison  and  Radnor. 
Whether  or  not  these  statistics  were  exagger 
ated,  I  cannot  say,  but  in  any  case  the  many 
other  aspirants  for  her  favor  had  tacitly 
dropped  out  of  the  running,  and  the  race  was 
clearly  between  the  two. 

It  seemed  to  me,  had  I  been  Polly,  that  it 
would  not  take  me  long  to  decide.  Rad  was 
as  likable  a  young  fellow  as  one  would  ever 
meet;  he  came  from  one  of  the  best  families 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

in  the  county,  with  the  prospect  of  inheriting 
at  his  father's  death  a  very  fair  sized  fortune. 
It  struck  me  that  a  girl  would  have  to  search 
a  good  while  before  discovering  an  equally 
desirable  husband.  But  I  was  surprised  to 
find  that  this  was  not  the  general  opinion  in 
the  neighborhood.  Radnor's  reputation,  I 
learned  with  something  of  a  shock,  was  far 
from  what  it  should  have  been.  I  was  told 
with  a  meaning  undertone  that  he  "favored" 
his  brother  Jeff.  Though  many  of  the  stories 
were  doubtless  exaggerated,  I  learned  subse 
quently  that  there  was  too  much  truth  in  some 
of  them.  It  was  openly  said  that  Polly  Math 
ers  would  be  doing  a  great  deal  better  if  she 
chose  young  Mattison,  for  though  he  might 
not  have  the  prospect  of  as  much  money  as 
Radnor  Gaylord,  he  was  infinitely  the  steadier 
of  the  two.  Mattison  was  a  good-looking  and 
rather  ill-natured  young  giant,  but  it  did  not 
strike  me  at  the  time,  nor  later  in  the  light  of 
succeeding  events,  that  he  was  particularly 
endowed  with  brains.  By  way  of  occupation, 
he  was  described  as  being  in  "politics";  at 
that  time  he  was  sheriff  of  the  county, 

[48] 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

and  was  fully  aware  of  the  importance  of  the 
office. 

I  fear  that  Polly  had  a  good  deal  of  the 
coquette  in  her  make-up,  and  she  thoroughly 
enjoyed  the  jealousy  between  the  two  young 
men.  Whenever  Radnor  by  any  chance  in 
curred  her  displeasure,  she  retaliated  by  trans 
ferring  her  smiles  to  Mattison;  and  the  vir 
tuous  young  sheriff  took  good  care  that 
if  Rad  committed  any  slips,  Polly  should 
hear  of  them.  As  a  result,  they  succeeded  in 
keeping  his  temper  in  a  very  inflammable 
state. 

I  had  not  been  long  at  Four-Pools  be 
fore  I  commenced  to  see  that  there  was  an  under 
current  to  the  life  of  the  household  which  I 
had  not  at  first  suspected.  The  Colonel  had 
grown  strict  as  he  grew  old;  his  experience 
with  his  elder  son  had  made  him  bitter,  and  he 
did  not  adopt  the  most  diplomatic  way  of 
dealing  with  Radnor.  The  boy  had  inherited 
a  good  share  of  his  father's  stubborn  temper 
and  indomitable  will;  the  two,  living  alone, 
inevitably  clashed.  Radnor  at  times  seemed 
possessed  of  the  very  devil  of  perversity ;  and 

C49] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

if  he  ever  drank  or  gambled,  it  was  as  much 
to  assert  his  independence  as  for  any  other 
reason.  There  were  days  when  he  and  his 
father  were  barely  on  speaking  terms. 

Life  at  the  plantation,  however,  was  for  the 
most  part  easy-going  and  flexible,  as  is  likely 
to  be  the  case  in  a  bachelor  establishment.  We 
dropped  cigar  ashes  anywhere  we  pleased, 
cocked  our  feet  on  the  parlor  table  if  we  saw 
fit,  and  let  the  dogs  troop  all  over  the  place. 
I  spent  the  greater  part  of  my  time  on  horse 
back,  riding  about  the  country  with  Radnor  on 
business  for  the  farm.  He,  I  soon  discovered, 
did  most  of  the  actual  work,  though  his  father 
was  still  the  nominal  head  of  affairs.  The 
raising  of  thorough-breds  is  no  longer  the 
lucrative  business  that  it  used  to  be,  and  it  re 
quired  a  good  manager  to  bring  the  balance 
out  on  the  right  side  of  the  ledger.  Rad  was 
such  a  spectacular  looking  young  fellow  that 
I  was  really  surprised  to  find  what  sound  busi 
ness  judgment  he  possessed.  He  insisted 
upon  introducing  modern  methods  where  his 
father  would  have  been  content  to  drift  along 
in  the  casual  manner  of  the  old  South,  and  his 

C503 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

clear-sightedness  more  than  doubled  the  in 
come  of  the  place. 

In  the  healthy  out-of-door  life  I  soon  for 
got  that  nerves  existed.  The  only  thing  which 
at  all  marred  the  enjoyment  of  those  first  few 
days  was  the  knowledge  of  occasional  clash- 
ings  between  Radnor  and  his  father.  I  think 
that  they  were  both  rather  ashamed  of  these 
outbreaks,  and  I  noticed  that  they  tried  to 
conceal  the  fact  from  me  by  an  elaborate  if 
somewhat  stiff  courtesy  toward  each  other. 

In  order  to  make  clear  the  puzzling  series 
of  events  which  followed,  I  must  go  back  to, 
I  believe,  the  fifth  night  of  my  arrival.  Rad 
nor  was  giving  a  dance  at  Four-Pools  for  the 
purpose,  he  said,  of  introducing  me  into 
society;  though  as  a  matter  of  fact  Polly 
Mathers  was  the  guest  of  honor.  In  any  case 
the  party  was  given,  and  everyone  in  the 
neighborhood  (the  term  "neighborhood"  is 
broad  in  Virginia;  it  describes  a  ten  mile 
radius)  both  young  and  old  came  in  carriages 
or  on  horseback;  the  younger  ones  to  dance 
half  the  night,  the  older  ones  to  play  cards 
and  look  on.  I  met  a  great  many  pretty  girls 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

that  evening — the  South  deserves  its  reputa 
tion — but  Polly  Mathers  was  by  far  the  pret 
tiest;  and  the  contest  for  her  favors  between 
Radnor  and  young  Mattison  was  spirited  and 
open.  Had  Rad  consulted  his  private  wishes, 
the  sheriff  would  not  have  been  among  the 
guests. 

It  was  getting  on  toward  the  end  of  the 
evening  and  the  musicians,  a  band  of  negro 
fiddlers  made  up  from  the  different  planta 
tions,  were  resting  after  a  Virginia  reel  that 
had  been  more  a  romp  than  a  dance,  when 
someone — I  think  it  was  Polly  herself — sug 
gested  that  the  company  adjourn  to  the  laurel 
walk  to  see  if  the  ha'nt  were  visible.  The 
story  of  old  Aunt  Sukie's  convulsions  and  of 
the  spirited  roast  chicken  had  spread  through 
the  countryside,  and  there  had  been  a  good 
many  laughing  allusions  to  it  during  the  eve 
ning.  Running  upstairs  in  search  of  a  hat  I 
met  Rad  on  the  landing,  buttoning  something 
white  inside  his  coat,  something  that  to  my 
eyes  looked  suspiciously  like  a  sheet.  He 
laughed  and  put  his  finger  on  his1  lips  as  he 
went  on  down  to  join  the  others. 

C52] 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

It  was  a  bright  moonlight  night  almost  as 
light  as  day.  We  moved  across  the  open  lawn 
in  a  fairly  compact  body.  The  girls,  though 
they  had  been  laughing  all  the  evening  at  the 
exploits  of  the  ha'nt,  showed  a  cautious  ten 
dency  to  keep  on  the  inside.  Rad  was  in  the 
front  ranks  leading  the  hunt,  but  I  noticed 
as  we  entered  the  shrubbery  that  he  disap 
peared  among  the  shadows,  and  I  for  one  was 
fairly  certain  that  our  search  would  be  re 
warded.  We  paused  in  a  group  at  the  nearer 
end  of  the  row  of  cabins  and  stood  waiting  for 
the  ha'nt  to  show  himself.  He  was  obliging. 
Four  or  five  minutes,  and  a  faint  flutter  of 
white  appeared  in  the  distance  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  laurel  walk.  Then  as  we  stood 
with  expectant  eyes  fixed  on  the  spot,  we  saw 
a  tall  white  figure  sway  across  a  patch  of 
moonlight  with  a  beckoning  gesture  in  our 
direction,  while  the  breeze  bore  a  faintly  whis 
pered,  "Come!  Come!"  We  were  none  of  us 
overbold ;  our  faith  was  not  strong  enough  to 
run  the  risk  of  spoiling  the  illusion.  With 
shrieks  and  laughter  we  turned  and  made 
helter-skelter  for  the  house,  breaking  in 

[533 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

among  the  elder  members  of  the  party  with 
the  panting  announcement,  "We  've  seen  the 
ha'nt!" 

Polly  loitered  on  the  veranda  while  supper 
was  being  served,  waiting,  I  suspect  for  Rad 
nor  to  reappear.  I  joined  her,  very  willing 
indeed  that  the  young  man  should  delay. 
Polly,  her  white  dress  gleaming  in  the  moon 
light,  her  eyes  filled  with  laughter,  her  cheeks 
glowing  with  excitement,  was  the  most  en 
trancing  little  creature  I  have  ever  seen.  She 
was  so  bubbling  over  with  youth  and  light- 
heartedness  that  I  felt,  in  contrast,  as  if  I 
were  already  tottering  on  the  brink  of  the 
grave.  I  was  just  thirty  that  summer,  but  if 
I  live  to  be  a  hundred  I  shall  never  feel  so  old 
again. 

"Well  Solomon,"  I  remarked  as  I  helped 
myself  to  some  cakes  he  was  passing,  "we  Ve 
been  consorting  with  ghosts  tonight." 

"I  reckon  dis  yere  gohs  would  answer  to  de 
name  o'  Marse  Radnah,"  said  Solomon,  with 
a  wise  shake  of  his  head.  "But  just  de  same 
it  ain't  safe  to  mock  at  ha'nts.  Dey  '11  get  it 
back  at  you  when  you  ain't  expectin'  it !" 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

After  an  intermission  of  half  an  hour  or 
so  the  music  commenced  again,  but  still  no 
Radnor.  Polly  cast  more  than  one  glance 
in  the  direction  of  the  laurels  and  the 
sparkle  in  her  eyes  grew  ominous.  Presently 
young  Mattison  appeared  in  the  doorway  and 
asked  her  to  come  in  and  dance,  but  she  said 
that  she  was  tired,  and  we  three  stood  laugh 
ing  and  chatting  for  some  ten  minutes  longer, 
when  a  step  suddenly  sounded  on  the  gravel 
path  and  Radnor  rounded  the  corner  of  the 
house.  As  the  bright  moonlight  fell  on  his 
face,  I  stared  at  him  in  astonishment.  He 
was  pale  to  his  very  lips  and  there  were 
strained  anxious  lines  beneath  his  eyes. 

"What 's  the  matter,  Radnor?"  Polly  cried. 
"You  look  as  if  you  'd  found  the  ha'nt!" 

He  made  an  effort  at  composure  and 
laughed  in  return,  though  to  my  ears  the 
laugh  sounded  very  hollow. 

"I  believe  this  is  my  dance,  is  n't  it,  Polly?" 
he  asked,  joining  us  with  rather  an  over-acted 
air  of  carelessness. 

"Your  dance  was  over  half  an  hour  ago," 
Polly  returned.  "This  is  Mr.  Mattison's." 

[553 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

She  turned  indoors  with  the  young  man, 
and  Rad  following  on  their  heels,  made  his 
way  to  the  punch  bowl  where  I  saw  him  toss 
off  three  or  four  glasses  with  no  visible  in 
terval  between  them.  I,  decidedly  puzzled, 
watched  him  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.  He 
appeared  to  have  some  disturbing  matter  on 
his  mind,  and  his  gaiety  was  clearly  forced. 

It  was  well  on  toward  morning  when  the 
party  broke  up,  and  after  some  slight  con 
versation  of  a  desultory  sort  the  Colonel,  Rad 
and  I  went  up  to  our  rooms.  Whether  it  was 
the  excitement  of  the  evening  or  the  coffee  I 
had  drunk,  in  any  case  I  was  not  sleepy.  I 
turned  in,  only  to  lie  for  an  hour  or  more  with 
my  eyes  wide  open  staring  at  a  patch  of  moon 
light  on  the  ceiling.  My  old  trouble  of  in 
somnia  had  overtaken  me  again.  I  finally 
rose  and  paced  the  floor  in  sheer  desperation, 
and  then  paused  to  stare  out  of  the  window  at 
the  peaceful  moonlit  picture  before  me. 

Suddenly  I  heard,  as  on  the  night  of  my 
arrival,  the  soft  creaking  of  the  French  win 
dow  in  the  library,  which  opened  on  to  the 
veranda  just  below  me.  Quickly  alert,  I 


THE  HA'NT  GROWS  MYSTERIOUS 

leaned  forward  determined  to  learn  if  possi 
ble  the  reason  for  Mose's  midnight  wander 
ings.  To  my  astonishment  it  was  Radnor  who 
stepped  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  house, 
carrying  a  large  black  bundle  in  his  arms.  I 
clutched  the  frame  of  the  window  and  stared 
after  him  in  dumb  amazement,  as  he  crossed 
the  strip  of  moonlit  lawn  and  plunged  into  the 
shadows  of  the  laurel  growth. 


£573 


CHAPTER  V 

CAT-EYE  MOSE  CREATES  A  SENSATION 

FOR  the  next  week  or  so  things  went 
rather  strangely  on  the  plantation. 
I  knew  very  well  that  there  was  an 
undercurrent  of  which  I  was  supposed  to 
know  nothing,  and  I  appeared  politely  uncon 
scious;  but  I  won't  say  but  that  I  kept  my 
eyes  and  ears  as  wide  open  as  was  possible 
without  appearing  to  spy.  The  chicken  epi 
sode  and  Aunt  Sukie's  convulsions  turned  out 
to  be  only  the  beginning  of  the  ha'nt  excite 
ment;  scarcely  a  day  passed  without  some 
fresh  supernatural  visitation.  Radnor  pooh- 
poohed  over  the  matter  before  the  Colonel  and 
me,  but  with  the  negroes  I  know  that  he  en 
couraged  rather  than  discouraged  their  fears, 
until  there  was  not  a  man  on  our  own  or  any 
of  the  neighboring  plantations  who  would 

C58] 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

have  ventured  to  step  foot  within  the  laurel 
walk,  either  at  night  or  in  the  daytime — at 
least  there  was  only  one.  Cat-Eye  Mose  took 
the  matter  of  the  ha'nt  without  undue  emo 
tion,  a  point  which  struck  me  as  suggestive, 
for  I  knew  that  Mose  was  as  superstitious  as 
the  rest  when  the  occasion  warranted. 

Once  at  least  I  saw  Radnor  and  Mose  in 
consultation,  and  though  I  did  not  know  the 
subject  of  the  conference  my  suspicions  were 
very  near  the  surface.  I  came  upon  them  in 
the  stables  talking  in  low  tones,  Rad  appar 
ently  explaining,  and  Mose  listening  with  the 
air  of  strained  attention  which  the  slightest 
mental  effort  always  called  to  his  face.  At 
my  appearance  Radnor  raised  his  voice  and 
added  one  or  two  directions  as  to  how  his  guns 
were  to  be  cleaned.  It  was  evident  that  the 
subject  had  been  changed. 

Everything  that  was  missing  about  the 
place — and  there  seemed  to  be  an  abnormal 
amount — was  attributed  to  the  ha'nt.  I  do 
not  doubt  but  that  the  servants  made  the  ha'nt 
a  convenient  scapegoat  to  answer  for  their 
own  shortcomings,  but  still  there  were  several 

C59] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

suggestive  depredations — horse  blankets  from 
the  stable,  clothes  from  the  line  and  more  edi 
bles  than  roast  chicken  from  Nancy's  larder. 
The  climax  of  absurdity  was  reached  when 
there  disappeared  a  rather  trashy  French 
novel,  which  I  had  left  in  the  summer  house. 
I  asked  Solomon  about  it,  thinking  that  one 
of  the  servants  might  have  brought  it  in. 
Solomon  rolled  his  eyes  and  suggested  that 
the  ha'nt  had  cotched  it.  I  laughingly  com 
mented  upon  the  occurrence  at  the  supper 
table  and  the  next  day  Rad  handed  me  the 
book;  Mose  had  found  it,  he  said,  and  had 
brought  it  up  to  his  room. 

All  of  these  minor  occurrences  were 
stretched  over  a  period  of,  say  ten  days  after 
the  party,  and  though  it  gave  me  the  uncom 
fortable  feeling  that  there  was  something  in 
the  air  which  I  did  not  understand,  I  did  not 
let  it  worry  me  unduly.  Radnor  seemed  to  be 
on  the  inside  track  of  whatever  was  going  on, 
and  he  was  old  enough  to  take  care  of  his  own 
affairs.  I  knew  that  he  had  more  than  once 
visited  the  laurel  walk  after  the  house  was 
supposed  to  be  asleep ;  but  I  kept  this  know- 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

ledge  to  myself,  and  allowed  no  hint  to  reach 
the  Colonel. 

I  had,  during  these  first  few  weeks,  all  the 
opportunity  I  wished  of  studying  Mose's 
character.  Radnor  was  occupied  a  good  deal 
of  the  time — spring  on  a  big  river  plantation 
is  a  busy  season — and  as  I  had  professed  my 
self  fond  of  shooting,  the  Colonel  turned  me 
over  to  the  care  of  Cat-Eye  Mose.  Had  I 
myself  been  choosing,  I  should  have  selected 
another  guide.  But  Mose  was  the  best  hunter 
on  the  place,  and  as  the  Colonel  was  quite  un 
troubled  by  his  vagaries,  it  never  occurred  to 
him  that  I  might  not  be  equally  confident.  In 
time  I  grew  used  to  the  fellow,  but  I  will  ad 
mit  that  at  first  I  accepted  his  services  with 
some  honest  trepidation.  As  I  watched  him 
going  ahead  of  me,  crouching  behind  bushes, 
springing  from  hummock  to  hummock,  silent 
and  alert,  quivering  like  an  animal  in  search 
of  prey,  my  attention  was  centered  on  him 
rather  than  on  any  possible  quarry. 

I  shall  never  forget  running  across  him  in 
the  woods  one  afternoon  when  I  had  gone  out 
snipe  shooting  alone.  Whether  he  had  fol- 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

lowed  me  or  whether  we  had  chosen  the  same 
vicinity  by  chance,  I  do  not  know ;  but  at  any 
rate  as  I  came  out  from  the  underbrush  on 
the  edge  of  a  low,  swampy  place,  I  almost 
stepped  on  the  man.  He  was  stretched  face 
downward  on  the  black,  oozy  soil  with  his  arm 
buried  in  a  hole  at  the  foot  of  a  tree. 

"Why  Mose!"  I  cried  in  amazement,  "what 
on  earth  are  you  doing  here?" 

He  responded  without  raising  his  head. 

"I  's  aftah  a  snake,  sah.  I  see  a  big  fat 
gahtah  snake  a-lopin'  into  dis  yere  hole,  an' 
he  's  skulkin'  dar  now  thinkin'  like  he  gwine 
to  fool  me.  But  he  cayn't  do  dat,  sah.  I  's 
got  'im  by  de  tail,  an'  I  '11  f  otch  'im  out." 

He  drew  forth  as  he  spoke  a  huge  black  and 
yellow  snake,  writhing  and  hissing,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  smash  its  head  with  a  stone.  I  shut 
my  eyes  during  the  operation  and  when  I 
opened  them  again  I  saw  to  my  horror  that 
he  was  stuffing  the  carcass  in  the  front  of  his 
shirt. 

"Good  heavens,  Mose!"  I  cried,  aghast. 
"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that?" 

"Boil  it  into  oil,  sah,  to  scar  de  witches  off." 

C62] 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

Inquiry  at  the  house  that  night  brought  out 
the  fact  that  this  was  one  of  Mose's  regular 
occupations.  Snake's  oil  was  in  general 
favor  among  the  negroes  as  a  specific  against 
witches,  and  Mose  was  the  chief  purveyor  of 
the  lotion.  Taken  all  in  all  he  was  about  as 
queer  a  human  being  as  I  have  ever  come 
across,  and  I  fancy,  had  I  been  a  psychologist 
instead  of  a  lawyer,  I  might  have  found  him 
an  entertaining  study. 

I  heard  about  this  time  some  fresh  rumors 
in  regard  to  Radnor ;  one — and  it  came  pretty 
straight — that  he  'd  just  lost  a  hundred  dol 
lars  at  poker.  A  hundred  dollars  may  not 
sound  like  a  very  big  loss  in  these  days  of 
bridge,  but  it  was  large  for  that  place,  and  it 
represented  to  Radnor  exactly  two  months' 
pay.  As  overseer  of  the  plantation,  the  Colo 
nel  paid  him  six  hundred  dollars  a  year,  a 
little  enough  sum  considering  the  work  he  did. 
Rad  had  nothing  in  his  own  right ;  aside  from 
his  salary  he  was  entirely  dependent  on  his 
father,  and  it  struck  me  as  more  than  foolish 
for  a  young  man  who  was  contemplating 
marriage  to  throw  away  two  months'  earnings 

£63] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

in  a  single  game  of  poker.  The  conviction 
crossed  my  mind  that  perhaps  after  all  Polly 
was  wise  to  delay. 

I  heard  another  rumor  however  which  was 
graver  than  the  poker  affair;  it  was  only  a 
rumor,  and  when  traced  to  its  source  turned 
out  to  be  nothing  more  tangible  than  some 
body's  hazarded  guess,  but  without  the  slight 
est  cause  the  same  suspicion  had  already  pre 
sented  itself  to  me.  And  that  was,  that  the 
ha'nt  was  a  very  flesh  and  blood  woman. 
Radnor  was  clearly  in  some  sort  of  trouble; 
he  was  moody  and  irritable,  so  sharp  with  the 
farm  hands  that  several  of  them  left,  and  un 
usually  taciturn  with  the  Colonel  and  me.  To 
make  matters  worse  Polly  Mathers  was  treat 
ing  him  with  marked  indifference,  and  openly 
bestowing  her  smiles  upon  Mattison ;  what  the 
trouble  was  I  could  only  conjecture,  but  I 
feared  that  she  too  had  been  hearing 
rumors. 

The  ha'nt  stories  had  been  repeated  and  ex 
aggerated  until  they  contained  no  semblance 
of  truth.  By  this  time,  not  only  the  laurel 
walk  was  haunted,  but  the  spring-hole  as  well ; 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

and  it  soon  became  a  region  of  even  greater 
fear  than  the  deserted  cabins.  The  "spring- 
hole"  was  a  natural  cavity  in  the  side  of  a  hill 
a  half  mile  or  so  back  from  the  house.  It  was 
out  of  this  cavity  that  the  underground 
stream  flowed  which  fed  the  pools,  and  fur 
nished  such  valuable  irrigation  to  the  place. 
All  that  part  of  Virginia  is  undermined  with 
limestone  caverns,  and  my  uncle's  was  by  no 
means  the  only  plantation  that  could  boast  the 
distinction  of  a  private  cave.  The  entrance 
was  half  hidden  among  rugged  piled-up 
boulders  dripping  with  moisture ;  and  was  not 
inviting.  I  remembered  chasing  a  rabbit  into 
this  cavern  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  though  it 
would  have  been  an  easy  matter  to  follow  him, 
I  preferred  to  stay  outside  in  the  sunshine. 
The  spring-hole,  then,  was  haunted.  This  did 
not  strike  me  as  strange.  I  rather  wondered 
that  it  had  not  been  from  the  first;  it  was  a 
likely  place  for  ghosts.  But  the  thing  which 
did  surprise  me,  was  the  fact  that  it  was  Mose 
who  brought  the  news. 

We  were  sitting  on  the  portico  after  supper 
one  night — it  was  almost  dark  and  the  glow 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

from  our  cigars  was  the  one  visible  point  in 
the  scenery— when  Mose  came  bounding 
across  the  lawn  with  his  peculiar  loping  run 
and  fairly  groveled  at  Radnor's  feet,  his  teeth 
chattering  with  fear. 

"I 's  seen  de  ha'nt,  Marse  Rad;  de  sho  miff 
ha'nt  all  dressed  in  black  an'  risin'  outen  de 
spring-hole." 

"You  fool!"  Radnor  cried.  "Get  on  your 
feet  and  behave  yourself." 

"It  was  de  debbil,"  Mose  chattered.  "His 
face,  was  black  an'  his  eyes  was  fire." 

"You  've  been  drinking,  Mose,"  Radnor 
said  sharply.  "Get  off  to  the  quarters  where 
you  belong,  and  don't  let  me  see  you  again 
until  you  are  sober,"  and  he  shunted  the  fel 
low  out  of  the  way  before  he  had  time  to  say 
any  more. 

I  myself  was  tolerably  certain  that'  Mose 
had  not  been  drinking ;  that,  at  least,  was  not 
in  the  list  of  his  peculiar  vices.  He  appeared 
to  be  thoroughly  frightened — if  not,  he  was  a 
most  consummate  actor.  In  the  light  of  what 
I  already  knew,  I  was  considerably  puzzled 
by  this  fresh  manifestation.  The  Colonel 

£66] 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

fretted  and  fumed  up  and  down  the  veranda, 
muttering  something  about  these  fool  niggers 
all  being  alike.  He  had  bragged  considerably 
about  Mose's  immunity  in  respect  to  ha'nts, 
and  I  think  he  was  rather  dashed  at  his  favor 
ite's  falling-off.  I  held  my  peace,  and  Rad 
nor  returned  in  a  few  minutes. 

"Rad,"  said  the  Colonel,  "this  thing  's  go 
ing  too  far.  The  whole  place  is  infested  with 
ghosts ;  they  '11  be  invading  the  house  next  and 
we  won't  have  a  servant  left  on  the  place. 
Can't  you  do  something  to  stop  it?" 

Radnor  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  said 
that  it  was  a  pretty  tough  job  to  lay  a  ghost 
when  there  were  twenty  niggers  on  the  place, 
but  that  he  would  see  wrhat  he  could  do ;  and  he 
presently  drifted  off  again. 

That  same  night  about  ten  o'clock  I  was 
reading  before  going  to  bed,  when  a  knock 
sounded  on  the  door,  and  Radnor  appeared. 
He  was  unusually  restless  and  ill  at  ease.  He 
referred  in  a  jesting  fashion  to  the  ha'nt,  dis 
cussed  some  neighborhood  gossip,  and  finally 
quite  abruptly  inquired: 

"Arnold,  can  you  lend  me  some  money?" 

C67] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I  think  so;  how  much  do 
you  want?" 

"A  hundred  dollars  if  you  can  spare  it. 
Fact  is  I  'm  a  little  hard  up,  and  I  've  got  a 
bill  to  meet.  I  have  some  money  invested  but 
I  can't  put  my  hands  on  it  just  this  minute. 
I  '11  pay  you  in  a  week  or  so  as  soon  as  I  get 
some  cash — I  would  n't  ask  you,  only  my 
father  is  so  blamed  reluctant  about  paying 
my  salary  ahead  of  time." 

I  wrote  out  a  check  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"Rad,"  I  said,  "you  're  perfectly  welcome 
to  the  money ;  I  'm  glad  to  accommodate  you, 
but  if  you  '11  excuse  my  mentioning  it,  I  think 
you  ought  to  pull  up  a  bit  on  this  poker  busi 
ness.  You  don't  earn  so  much  that  if  you  're 
thinking  of  getting  married  you  can  afford  to 
throw  any  of  it  away. — I  'm  only  speaking 
for  your  good;  it  's  no  affair  of  mine,"  I 
added  as  I  saw  his  face  flush. 

He  hesitated  a  moment  with  the  check  in 
his  hand;  I  know  that  he  wanted  to  give  it 
back,  but  he  was  evidently  too  hard  pressed. 

"Oh,  keep  the  money!"  I  said.  "I  don't 
want  to  pry  into  your  private  affairs,  only,"  I 

£683 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

laughed,  "I  do  want  to  see  you  win  out  ahead 
of  Mattison,  and  I  'm  afraid  you  're  not  going 
about  it  the  right  way." 

"Thank  you,  Arnold,"  he  returned,  "I  want 
to  win  a  great  deal  more  than  you  want  me  to 
—and  if  it  's  gambling  you  're  afraid  of,  you 
can  ease  your  mind,  for  I  Ve  sworn  off.  It 's 
not  a  poker  debt  I  want  this  money  for  to 
night;  I  would  n't  be  so  secretive  about  the 
business,  only  it  concerns  another  person  more 
than  me." 

"Radnor,"  I  said,  "I  heard  an  ugly  rumor 
the  other  day.  I  heard  that  the  ghost  was  a 
live  woman  who  was  living  in  the  deserted 
cabins  under  your  connivance.  I  did  n't  be 
lieve  it,  but  just  the  same  it  is  not  a  story 
which  you  can  afford  to  have  even  whis 
pered." 

Radnor  raised  his  head  sharply. 

"Ah,  I  see!"  His  eyes  wavered  a  moment 
and  then  fixed  themselves  miserably  on  my 
face.  "Has— has  Polly  Mathers  heard  that  ?" 

"Yes,"  I  returned,  "I  fancy  she  has." 

He  struck  the  table  with  a  quick  flash  of 
anger. 

C69] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"It  's  a  damned  lie!    And  it  comes  from 
Jim  Mattison." 

AND  now  as  to  the  events  which  followed  dur 
ing  the  night.  I  Ve  repeated  them  so  many 
times  to  so  many  different  persons  that  it  is 
difficult  for  me  to  recall  just  what  were  my 
original  sensations.  I  went  to  bed  but  I 
did  n't  go  to  sleep;  this  ha'nt  business  was 
getting  on  my  nerves  almost  as  badly  as  the 
Patterson-Pratt  case.  After  a  time  I  heard 
someone  let  himself  softly  out  of  the  house; 
I  knew  well  that  it  was  Radnor  and  I  did  n't 
get  up  to  look.  I  did  n't  want  the  appearance 
even  to  myself  of  spying  upon  him.  After 
three  quarters  of  an  hour  or  so  I  was  sud 
denly  startled  alert  by  hearing  the  squeak- 
squeak  of  a  whippletree  out  on  the  lawn.  It 
was  the  Colonel's  buckboard  which  stood  in 
need  of  oiling ;  I  recognized  the  sound.  Curi 
osity  was  too  much  for  me  this  time.  I 
slipped  out  of  bed  and  hurried  to  the  window. 
It  was  pretty  dark  outside,  but  there  was  a 
faint  glimmer  of  starlight. 

"Whoa,  Jennie  Loo;  whoa!"  I  heard  Rad's 

C70] 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

voice  scarcely  above  a  whisper,  and  I  saw  the 
outline  of  the  cart  plainly  with  Rad  driving, 
and  either  some  person  or  some  large  bundle 
on  the  seat  beside  him.  It  was  on  the  side 
farthest  from  me,  and  was  too  vague  to  be 
distinguished.  He  made  a  wide  detour  of  the 
house  across  the  grass,  and  struck  the  drive 
way  at  the  foot  of  the  lawn;  the  reason  for 
this  manoeuvre  was  evident — the  gravel  drive 
from  the  stables  passed  directly  under  the 
Colonel's  window.  I  went  back  to  bed  half 
worried,  half  relieved.  I  strongly  suspected 
that  this  wras  the  end  of  the  ghost ;  but  I  could 
not  help  puzzling  over  the  part  that  Radnor 
had  played  in  the  little  comedy— if  comedy  it 
were.  The  stories  that  I  had  heard  about 
some  of  his  disreputable  associates  returned  to 
my  mind  with  unpleasant  emphasis. 

I  had  gradually  dozed  off,  when  half  wak 
ing,  half  sleeping,  I  heard  the  patter  of  bare 
feet  on  the  veranda  floor.  The  impression 
was  not  distinct  enough  to  arouse  me,  and  I 
have  never  been  perfectly  sure  that  I  was 
not  dreaming.  I  do  not  know  how  much  time 
elapsed  after  this — I  was  sound  asleep — when 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

I  was  suddenly  startled  awake  by  a  succession 
of  the  most  horrible  screams  I  have  ever  heard. 
In  an  instant  I  was  on  my  feet  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor.  Striking  a  match  and  lighting  a 
candle,  I  grabbed  an  umbrella — it  was  the 
only  semblance  of  a  weapon  anywhere  at 
hand — and  dashed  into  the  hall.  The  Colonel's 
door  was  flung  open  at  the  same  instant,  and 
he  appeared  on  the  threshold,  revolver  in 
hand. 

"Eh,  Arnold,  what  's  happened?"  he  cried. 

"I  don't  know,"  I  gasped,  "I  'm  going 
down  to  see." 

We  tumbled  down  stairs  at  such  a  rate  that 
the  candle  went  out,  and  we  groped  along  in 
total  darkness  toward  the  rear  of  the  house 
from  wrhere  the  sounds  were  coming.  The 
cries  had  died  down  by  this  time  into  a  hor 
rible  inarticulate  wail,  half  animal,  half  hu 
man.  I  recognized  the  tones  with  a  cold 
thrill;  it  was  Mose.  We  found  him  grovel 
ing  on  the  floor  of  the  little  passage  that  led 
from  the  dining-room  to  the  serving  room.  I 
struck  a  light  and  we  bent  over  him.  I  hated 
to  look,  expecting  from  the  noise  he  was  mak- 

C72] 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

ing  to  find  him  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood.  But 
he  was  entirely  whole ;  there  was  no  blood  visi 
ble  and  we  could  find  no  broken  bones.  Ap 
parently  there  was  nothing  the  matter  beyond 
fear,  and  of  that  he  was  nearly  dead.  He 
crawled  to  the  Colonel  and  clung  to  his  feet 
chattering  an  unintelligible  gibberish.  His 
eyes  rolling  wildly  in  the  dim  light,  showed  an 
uncanny  yellow  gleam.  I  could  see  where  he 
got  his  name. 

The  Colonel's  own  nerves  were  beginning 
to  assert  themselves  and  with  an  oath  he 
cuffed  the  fellow  back  to  a  state  of  coherence. 

"Stand  up,  you  blithering  fool,  and  tell  us 
what  you  mean  by  raising  such  a  fuss." 

Mose  finally  found  his  tongue  but  we  still 
could  make  nothing  of  his  story.  He  had 
been  out  "prospectin'  'round,"  and  when  he 
came  in  to  go  to  bed — the  house  servants  slept 
in  a  wing  over  the  rear  gallery — he  met  the 
ha'nt  face  to  face  standing  in  the  dining-room 
doorway.  He  was  so  tall  that  his  head 
reached  the  ceiling  and  he  was  so  thin  that  you 
could  see  right  through  him.  At  the  remem 
brance  Mose  began  to  shiver  again.  We 

[733 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

propped  him  up  with  some  whiskey  and  sent 
him  off  to  bed  still  twittering  with  terror. 

The  Colonel  was  bent  on  routing  out  Rad 
nor  to  share  the  excitement  and  I  with  some 
difficulty  restrained  him,  knowing  full  well 
that  Rad  was  not  in  the  house.  We  made  a 
search  of  the  premises  to  assure  ourselves  that 
there  was  nothing  tangible  about  Mose's 
ha'nt;  but  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  the 
Colonel  safely  upstairs  again,  that  our  search 
was  somewhat  cursory.  We  both  overlooked 
the  little  office  that  opened  off  the  dining- 
room.  In  spite  of  my  manoeuvres  the  Colonel 
entered  the  library  first  and  discovered  that 
the  French  window  was  open ;  he  laid  no  stress 
on  this  however,  supposing  that  Mose  was  the 
guilty  one.  He  bolted  it  with  unusual  care, 
and  I  with  equal  care  slipped  back  and  un 
bolted  it.  I  finally  persuaded  him  that  Mose's 
ha'nt  was  merely  the  result  of  a  fevered  imag 
ination  fed  on  a  two  weeks'  diet  of  ghost  sto 
ries,  and  succeeded  in  getting  him  back  to  bed 
without  discovering  Radnor's  absence.  I  lay 
awake  until  I  heard  the  sound  of  carriage 
wheels  returning  across  the  lawn,  and,  a  few 


CAT-EYE  MOSE 

minutes  later,  footsteps  enter  the  house  and 
tip-toe  upstairs.  Then  as  daylight  was  begin 
ning  to  show  in  the  east  I  finally  fell  asleep, 
worn  out  with  puzzling  my  head  for  an  ex 
planation  which  should  cover  at  once  Rad's 
nocturnal  drive  and  Mose's  ha'nt. 


CHAPTER  VI 

WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

I  SLEPT   late   the   next   morning,   and 
came  down  stairs  to  find  the  Colonel  pac 
ing  the  length  of  the  dining-room,  his 
head  bent,  a  worried  frown  upon  his  brow. 
He  came  to  a  sudden  halt  at  my  appearance 
and  regarded  me  a  moment  without  speaking. 
I  could  see  that  something  of  moment  had 
happened,  but  I  could  fathom  nothing  of  its 
nature  from  his  expression. 

"Good  morning,  Arnold,"  he  said  with  a 
certain  grim  pleasantness.  "I  have  just  been 
making  a  discovery.  It  appears  that  Mose's 
ha'nt  amounted  to  more  than  we  gave  him 
credit  for.  The  safe  was  robbed  during  the 
night." 

"The  safe  robbed!"  I  cried.  "How  much 
was  taken?" 

C76] 


WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

"Something  over  a  hundred  dollars  in  cash, 
and  a  number  of  important  papers." 

He  threw  open  the  door  of  the  little  office, 
and  waved  his  hand  toward  the  safe  which 
occupied  one  end.  The  two  iron  doors  were 
wide  open,  the  interior  showing  a  succession 
of  yawning  pigeon  holes  with  the  cash  drawer, 
half  pulled  out  and  empty.  Several  papers 
were  spilled  on  the  floor  underneath. 

"He  evidently  had  no  use  for  my  will  nor 
for  Kennisburg  street  railway  stock— I  don't 
blame  him ;  it  would  n't  sell  for  the  paper  it 's 
written  on." 

Radnor's  step  sounded  on  the  stair  as  he 
came  running  down — whistling  I  noted. 

"Ah — Rad,"  the  Colonel  called  from  the 
office  doorway.  "You  're  a  good  sleeper." 

Radnor  stopped  his  whistle  as  his  eye  fell 
upon  our  faces,  and  his  own  took  on  a  look  of 
anxiety. 

"What 's  the  matter?"  he  asked.  "Has  any 
thing  happened?" 

"It  appears  the  ha'nt  has  robbed  the  safe." 

"The  ha'nt?"  Rad's  face  went  visibly 
white,  and  then  in  a  moment  it  cleared;  his 

C77] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

expression  was  divided  between  relief  and 
dismay. 

"Oh!"  he  said,  "you  've  missed  the  money? 
I  meant  to  get  down  first  and  tell  you  about 
it,  but  overslept.  I  took  a  hundred  dollars  out 
of  the  safe  last  night  because  I  wanted  the 
cash — you  had  gone  to  bed  so  I  did  n't  say 
anything  about  it.  I  will  ride  into  the  village 
this  morning  and  get  it  out  of  the  bank  in 
time  to  pay  the  men." 

"You  took  a  hundred  dollars,"  the  Colonel 
repeated.  "And  did  you  take  the  securities 
also  and  the  bag  of  coin?"  He  waved  his 
hand  toward  the  safe.  Radnor's  eye  followed 
and  his  jaw  dropped. 

"I  did  n't  touch  anything  but  the  roll  of 
bills  in  the  cash  drawer.  What 's  missing?" 

"Five  thousand  dollars  in  bonds,  a  couple  of 
insurance  policies  and  one  or  two  deeds — also 
the  bag  of  coin.  Mose  saw  the  ha'nt  in  the 
night,  and  Arnold  and  I  came  down  to  inves 
tigate;  we  unfortunately  neglected  the  office 
in  our  search,  or  we  might  have  cornered  him. 
Do  you  happen  to  remember  whether  or  not 
you  closed  the  safe  after  you  took  out  the 

C78] 


WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

money,  and  would  you  mind  telling  me  why 
you  needed  a  hundred  dollars  in  such  a  hurry 
that  you  could  n't  wait  until  the  bank 
opened?" 

The  troubled  line  on  Radnor's  brow  deep 
ened. 

"I  think  I  closed  the  safe,"  he  said,  "but  I 
don't  remember.  It  's  barely  possible  that  I 
did  n't  lock  it ;  you  know  we  have  n't  always 
kept  it  locked,  especially  when  there  was  n't 
money  in  it. — It  never  occurred  to  me  that 
anyone  would  steal  the  bonds.  I  can't  imag 
ine  what  it  means." 

"You  have  n't  answered  my  question. — 
Why  did  you  need  a  hundred  dollars  in  cash 
after  ten  o'clock  last  night?" 

"I  am  sorry,  father,  but  I  can't  answer  that 
question.  It 's  a  private  matter." 

"Indeed!  You  are  sure  that  you  did  not 
take  the  bonds  as  well  and  have  forgotten  it?" 

"I  took  one  hundred  dollars  in  bills  and 
nothing  else.  I  took  that  merely  because  it 
was  my  only  way  of  cashing  a  check.  I  have 
frequently  cashed  my  private  checks,  when  we 
had  a  surplus  on  hand  and  I  did  n't  want  the 

C79] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

bother  of  going  in  to  the  bank.  So  long  as  I 
balance  the  books  all  right,  I  see  no  reason 
why  I  should  not  do  so." 

"H'm!"  said  the  Colonel.  "Two  days  ago 
you  came  to  me  and  wanted  two  months'  pay 
in  advance  because  you  had  overdrawn  your 
bank  account,  and  I  refused  to  give  it  to  you. 
Where,  may  I  ask,  were  you  intending  to  get 
the  hundred  dollars  to  pay  back  this  amount?" 

A  quick  flush  spread  over  Radnor's  face. 

"I  already  had  it — Arnold  will  tell  you 
that,  for  I  borrowed  it  of  him." 

"Certainly,"  I  put  in  pacifically—  "that  's 
all  settled  between  Rad  and  me.  I  have  his 
note  and  was  glad  to  accommodate  him." 

"Don't  you  get  enough  from  me,  that  you 
must  ask  the  guests  in  my  house  to  supply  you 
with  money?" 

Radnor's  flush  deepened  but  he  said  noth 
ing.  I  could  see  by  his  eyes  however  that  he 
would  not  stand  much  more. 

"Then  after  you  had  helped  yourself  to  the 
money,  the  bonds  were  stolen  by  someone 
else?"  said  the  Colonel. 

"So  it  appears,"  said  Radnor. 

C80] 


WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

"And  have  you  any  theory  as  to  the  iden 
tity  of  the  thief  ?" 

Rad  hesitated  a  visible  instant  before  re 
plying.  The  flush  left  his  face  and  the  pallor 
came  back,  but  in  the  end  he  raised  his  eyes 
and  answered  steadily. 

"No,  father,  I  have  not.  I  am  as  much 
mystified  as  you  are." 

"And  you  heard  nothing  in  the  night?  As 
I  said  before,  you  are  an  excellent  sleeper!" 

Rad  caught  an  ironical  undertone  in  his 
father's  voice. 

"I  don't  understand,"  he  said. 

"I  am  a  trifle  deaf  myself,  but  still  he 
wakened  me. — It  's  strange  that  you  should 
be  the  only  one  in  the  house  who  could  sleep 
through  it." 

"Sleep  through  what?  I  don't  know  what 
you  're  talking  about." 

I  cut  in  hastily  and  explained  our  adven 
ture  with  Mose's  ha'nt. 

Radnor  listened  with  troubled  eyes  but 
made  no  comment  at  the  end.  His  father  was 
watching  him  keenly,  and  I  don't  know 
whether  it  was  intuition  or  some  knowledge 

C81] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

of  the  truth  that  made  him  suddenly  put  the 
question : 

"You  were  of  course  in  the  house  all 
night?" 

"No,"  Radnor  returned,  "I  was  not.  I 
did  n't  get  in  till  early  this  morning  and  I 
suppose  the  excitement  occurred  during  my 
absence." 

"I  suppose  I  may  not  be  permitted  to 
inquire  where  you  spent  the  night — that  too 
is  a  private  matter?" 

"Yes,"  said  Radnor,  easily,  "that  too  is  a 
private  matter." 

"And  would  throw  no  light  on  the  rob 
bery?" 

"None  whatever." 

Solomon  brought  in  the  breakfast  and  we 
three  sat  down,  but  not  to  a  very  cheerful 
meal.  The  Colonel  wore  an  angry  frown  and 
Rad  an  air  of  anxious  perplexity.  Neither 
of  them  indulged  in  any  unnecessary  conver 
sation.  I  knew  that  the  Colonel  was  more  up 
set  by  his  son's  reticence  than  by  the  robbery 
of  the  bonds,  and  that  it  was  my  presence 
alone  which  restrained  him  from  giving  vent 

[82] 


WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

to  his  anger.  As  we  rose  from  the  table  he 
said  stiffly : 

"Well,  Rad,  have  you  any  suggestion  as  to 
how  we  shall  set  to  work  to  track  down  the 
thief?" 

Radnor  slowly  shook  his  head. 

"I  shall  have  to  talk  with  Mose  first  and 
find  out  what  he  really  saw." 

"Mose!"  The  Colonel  laughed  shortly. 
"He  's  like  all  the  rest  of  the  niggers.  He 
does  n't  know  what  he  saw — No  sir !  I  Ve  had 
enough  of  this  ha'nt  business;  it  's  one  thing 
when  he  spirits  chickens  from  the  oven,  it  's 
another  when  he  takes  to  spiriting  securities 
from  the  safe.  I  shall  telegraph  to  Wash 
ington  for  a  first  class  detective." 

"If  you  take  my  advice,"  said  Rad,  "y°u  '11 
not  do  that.  A  detective  's  not  much  good 
outside  the  covers  of  a  book.  He  '11  stir  up  a 
lot  of  notoriety  and  present  a  bill ;  and  you  '11 
be  no  wiser  than  you  were  before." 

"Whoever  stole  those  bonds  will  be  market 
ing  them  within  a  few  days ;  the  interest  falls 
due  the  first  of  May.  I  am  not  so  rich  that  I 
can  let  five  thousand  dollars  go  without  a 

C83] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

move  to  get  it  back.  I  shall  telegraph  today 
for  a  detective." 

"Just  as  you  please,"  said  Radnor  with  a 
shrug,  and  he  turned  toward  the  door  that 
opened  on  the  gallery.  Mose  was  visible  at 
the  end  evidently  recounting  to  an  excited 
audience  his  experiences  of  the  night.  Rad 
beckoned  to  him  and  the  two  turned  together 
across  the  lawn  toward  the  laurel  walk. 

It  was  an  hour  or  so  later  that  Rad  pre 
sented  himself  at  my  door.  His  colloquy 
with  Mose  had  increased  rather  than  lessened 
the  mystified  look  on  his  face.  He  waited  for 
no  preliminaries  this  time,  but  plunged  im 
mediately  into  the  matter  that  was  on  his  mind. 

"Arnold,  for  heaven's  sake,  stop  my  father 
from  getting  a  detective  down  here.  I  don't 
dare  say  anything,  for  my  opposition  will 
only  make  him  do  it  the  more.  But  you  have 
some  influence  with  him;  tell  him  you  're  a 
lawyer,  and  will  take  charge  of  it  yourself." 

"Why  don't  you  want  a  detective?"  I  asked. 

"Good  Lord,  has  n't  our  family  had  noto 
riety  enough?  Here  's  Nan  eloping  with  the 
overseer,  and  Jeff  the  scandal  of  the  county 


WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

for  five  years.  I  can't  turn  around  but  some 
malicious  interpretation  is  put  on  it,  and  now 
that  the  family  ghost  has  taken  to  cracking 
safes  gossip  will  never  stop.  Get  a  detective 
down  here  who  goes  nosing  about  the  neigh 
borhood  in  search  of  information  and  there  's 
no  telling  where  the  thing  will  end.  Those 
bonds  can't  be  far.  Are  n't  we  more  likely  to 
get  at  the  truth,  if  we  lie  low  and  don't  let  on 
we  're  after  the  thief?" 

"Radnor,"  I  said,  "will  you  tell  me  the  ab 
solute  truth?  Have  you  any  suspicion  as  to 
who  took  those  securities?  Do  you  know  any 
facts  which  might  lead  to  the  apprehension  of 
the  thief?" 

He  remained  silent  a  moment,  then  he  par 
ried  my  question  with  another. 

"What  time  did  all  that  row  occur  in  the 
night?" 

"I  don't  know ;  I  did  n't  think  to  look,  but  I 
should  say  it  was  somewhere  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  three  o'clock.  I  did  n't  go  to  sleep 
again,  and  it  was  about  half  an  hour  later  that 
you  drove  in." 

"You  heard  me?" 

[85] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"I  heard  you  go  and  I  heard  you  come ;  but 
I  did  not  mention  that  fact  to  the  Colonel." 

Rad  laughed  shortly. 

"I  can  at  least  prove  an  alibi,"  he  said. 
"You  can  swear  that  I  was  not  Mose's  devil." 

He  remained  silent  a  moment  with  his  el 
bows  on  his  knees  and  his  chin  in  his  hands 
studying  the  floor;  then  he  raised  his  eyes  to 
mine  with  a  puzzled  shake  of  the  head. 

"No,  Arnold,  I  have  n't  the  slightest  sus 
picion  as  to  who  took  those  securities.  I  can't 
make  it  out.  The  robbery  must  have  occurred 
while  I  was  away.  Of  course  the  deeds  and 
insurance  policies  and  coin  may  have  been 
taken  as  a  blind ;  but  it  's  queer.  The  money 
was  in  five  and  ten  cent  pieces  and  pennies— 
we  always  keep  a  lot  of  change  on  hand  to 
pay  the  piece-workers  during  planting  sea 
son.  There  was  nearly  a  quart  of  it  alto 
gether  and  it  must  have  weighed  a  ton.  I 
can't  imagine  anyone  stealing  Government 
four-per-cents  and  pennies  at  the  same  haul." 

"Did  you  get  any  light  from  Mose?"  I 
asked. 

"No,  I  can't  make  head  nor  tail  out  of  his 

C86] 


WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

story.  He  is  n't  given  to  seeing  visions,  and 
as  you  know,  he  is  n't  afraid  of  the  dark.  He 
saw  something  that  scared  him;  but  what  it 
was,  I  '11  be  darned  if  I  know!" 

"Then  why  not  get  a  detective  down  and 
see  if  he  can't  find  out?" 

Radnor  lowered  his  eyes  a  moment,  then 
raised  them  frankly  to  mine. 

"Oh,  hang  it,  Arnold ;  I  'm  in  the  deuce  of  a 
hole!  There  's  something  else  that  I  don't 
want  found  out.  It 's  absolutely  unconnected 
with  the  robbery,  but  you  bring  a  detective  down 
here  and  he  's  certain  to  stumble  on  that  instead 
of  the  other.  I  'd  tell  you  if  I  could,  but  really 
I  can't  just  now.  It 's  nothing  I  'm  to  blame 
for — my  conduct  lately  has  been  immaculate. 
You  get  my  father  to  abandon  this  detective 
plan,  and  we  '11  buckle  down  together  and 
root  out  the  truth  about  the  robbery." 

"Well,"  I  promised,  "I  '11  see  what  I  can 
do ;  but  as  the  Colonel  says,  five  thousand  dol 
lars  is  a  good  deal  of  money  to  let  slip 
through  your  hands  without  making  an  effort 
to  get  it  back.  You  and  I  will  have  to  finish 
the  business  if  we  undertake  it." 

C87] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"We  will!"  he  assured  me.  "We  can  cer 
tainly  get  at  the  truth  better  than  an  outsider 
who  does  n't  know  any  of  the  facts.  You 
switch  off  the  old  gentleman  from  putting  it 
in  the  hands  of  the  police  and  everything  will 
come  out  right." 

He  went  off  actually  whistling  again. 
Whatever  had  been  troubling  him  for  the  past 
two  weeks  had  been  sloughed  off  during  the 
night,  and  all  that  remained  now  was  the  dan 
ger  of  detection ;  with  this  removed  he  was  his 
old  careless  self.  The  loss  of  the  securities 
was  apparently  not  bothering  him.  Radnor 
always  did  exhibit  a  lordly  disregard  in 
money  matters. 

I  lost  no  time  in  taking  my  errand  to  the 
Colonel,  but  I  could  discover  him  in  none  of 
the  down  stairs  rooms  nor  anywhere  else  about 
the  place.  It  occurred  to  me,  after  half  an 
hour  of  searching,  to  see  if  his  horse  were  in 
the  stable;  as  I  had  surmised  it  was  not.  He 
had  ordered  it  saddled  immediately  after 
breakfast  and  had  ridden  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  village,  one  of  the  stablemen  informed 
me.  I  had  my  own  horse  saddled,  and  ten 

C88] 


WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

minutes  later  was  riding  after  him.  It  sur 
prised  me  that  he  should  have  acted  so 
quickly ;  the  Colonel  was  usually  rather  given 
to  procrastination,  while  Had  was  the  one  who 
acted.  His  promptness  proved  that  he  was 
angry. 

Four-Pools  is  about  two  miles  from  the  vil 
lage  of  Lambert  Corners  which  consists  of  a 
single  shady  square.  Two  sides  of  the  square 
are  taken  up  with  shops,  the  other  two  with 
the  school,  a  couple  of  churches,  and  a  dozen 
or  so  of  dwellings.  This  composes  as  much 
of  the  town  as  is  visible,  the  aristocracy  being 
scattered  over  the  outlying  plantations,  and 
regarding  the  "Corners"  merely  as  a  source 
of  mail  and  drinks.  Three  miles  farther  down 
the  pike  lies  Kennisburg,  the  county  seat, 
which  answers  the  varied  purposes  of  a 
metropolis. 

I  reined  in  before  "Miller's  place,"  a  spa 
cious  structure  comprising  a  general  store  on 
the  right,  the  post  and  telegraph  office  on  the 
left,  and  in  the  rear  a  commodious  room 
where  a  white  man  may  quench  his  thirst.  A 
negro  must  pass  on  to  "Jake's  place,"  two 

C893 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

doors  below.  A  number  of  horses  were  tied 
to  the  iron  railing  in  front  and  among  them  I 
recognized  Red  Pepper.  I  found  the  Colonel 
in  the  back  room,  a  glass  of  mint  julep  at  his 
elbow,  an  interested  audience  before  him.  He 
was  engaged  in  recounting  the  story  of  the 
missing  bonds,  and  it  was  too  late  for  me  to 
interrupt.  He  referred  in  the  most  casual 
manner  to  the  hundred  dollars  his  son  had 
taken  from  the  safe  the  night  before,  a  fortu 
nate  circumstance,  he  added,  or  that  too  would 
have  been  stolen.  There  was  not  the  slightest 
suggestion  in  his  tone  that  he  and  his  son  had 
had  any  words  over  this  same  hundred  dollars. 
The  Gaylord  pride  could  be  depended  on  for 
hiding  from  the  world  what  the  world  had  no 
business  in  knowing. 

The  telegram  to  the  detective  agency,  I 
found,  had  already  been  dispatched,  and  the 
Colonel  was  awaiting  his  answer.  It  came  in 
a  few  moments  and  was  delivered  by  word  of 
mouth,  the  clerk  seeing  no  reason  why  he 
should  put  himself  to  the  trouble  of  writing  it 
out. 

"They  say  they  '11  put  one  o'  their  best  men 

C90] 


WE  SEND  FOR  A  DETECTIVE 

on  the  case,  Colonel,  an'  he  '11  get  to  the 
Junction  at  five- forty  tonight." 

The  Colonel  and  I  rode  home  together,  he 
in  a  more  placable  frame  of  mind.  Though  I 
dare  say  he  disliked  as  much  as  ever  the  idea 
of  losing  his  bonds,  still  the  eclat  of  a  robbery, 
of  a  magnitude  that  demanded  a  detective, 
was  something  of  a  palliative.  It  was  not 
everyone  of  his  listeners  who  had  five  thou 
sand  dollars  in  bonds  to  lose.  I  knew  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  try  to  head  off  the  detec 
tive  now,  and  I  wisely  kept  silent.  My  mind 
was  by  no  means  at  rest  however;  for  an  un 
known  reason  I  did  not  want  a  detective  any 
more  than  Radnor.  I  had  the  intangible  feel 
ing  that  there  was  something  in  the  air  which 
might  better  not  be  discovered. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN 

THE  detective  came.  He  was  an  inof 
fensive  young  man,  and  he  set  to  work 
to  unravel  the  mystery  of  the  ha'nt 
with  visible  delight  at  the  unusual  nature  of 
the  job.  Radnor  received  him  in  a  spirit  of 
almost  anxious  hospitality.  A  horse  was 
given  him  to  ride,  guns  and  fishing  tackle 
were  placed  at  his  disposal,  a  box  of  the  Colo 
nel's  best  cigars  stood  on  the  table  of  his  room, 
and  Solomon  at  his  elbow  presented  a  succes 
sion  of  ever  freshly  mixed  mint  juleps.  I 
think  that  he  was  dazed  and  a  trifle  suspicious 
at  these  unexpected  attentions;  he  was  not 
used  to  the  largeness  of  Southern  hospitality. 
However,  he  set  to  work  with  an  admirable 
zeal. 

He   interviewed   the   servants   and   farm 
hands,  and  the  information  he  received  in  re- 

C923 


gard  to  things  supernatural  would  have  filled 
three  volumes;  he  was  staggered  by  the 
amount  of  evidence  at  hand  rather  than  the 
scarcity.  He  examined  the  safe  and  the 
library  window  with  a  microscope,  crawled 
about  the  laurel  walk  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
sent  off  telegrams  and  gossiped  with  the 
loungers  at  "Miller's  place."  He  interviewed 
the  Colonel  and  Radnor,  cross-examined  me, 
and  wrote  down  always  copious  notes.  The 
young  man's  manner  was  preeminently  pro 
fessional. 

Finally  one  evening — it  was  four  days 
after  his  arrival — he  joined  me  as  I  was  stroll 
ing  in  the  garden  smoking  an  after  dinner 
pipe. 

"May  I  have  just  a  word  with  you,  Mr. 
Crosby?"  he  asked. 

"I  am  at  your  service,  Mr.  Clancy,"  said  I. 

His  manner  was  gravely  portentous  and 
prepared  me  for  the  statement  that  was  com 
ing. 

"I  have  spotted  my  man,"  he  said.  "I 
know  who  stole  the  securities ;  but  I  am  afraid 
that  the  information  will  not  be  welcome. 

[93] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Under  the  circumstances  it  seemed  wisest  to 
make  my  report  to  you  rather  than  to  Colonel 
Gaylord,  and  we  can  decide  between  us  what 
is  best  to  do." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  demanded.  In 
spite  of  my  effort  at  composure,  there  was 
anxiety  in  my  tone. 

"The  thief  is  Radnor  Gaylord." 

I  laughed. 

"That  is  absolutely  untenable.  Rad  is  in 
capable  of  such  an  act  in  the  first  place,  and  in 
the  second,  he  was  not  in  the  house  when  the 
robbery  occurred." 

"Ah!  Then  you  know  that?  And  where 
was  he,  pray?" 

"That,"  said  I,  "is  his  own  affair;  if  he  did 
not  tell  you,  it  is  because  it  is  not  connected 
with  the  case." 

"So !  It  is  just  because  it  is  connected  with 
the  case  that  he  did  not  tell  me.  I  will  tell 
you,  however,  where  he  spent  the  night;  he 
drove  to  Kennisburg — a  larger  town  than 
Lambert  Corners,  where  an  unusual  letter 
would  create  no  comment — and  mailed  the 
bonds  to  a  Washington  firm  of  brokers  with 


WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN 

whom  he  has  had  some  dealings.  He  took  the 
bag  of  coin  and  several  unimportant  papers  in 
order  to  deflect  suspicion,  and  his  opening  the 
safe  the  night  before  for  the  hundred  dollars 
was  merely  a  ruse  to  allow  him  to  forget  and 
leave  it  open,  so  that  the  bonds  could  appear 
to  be  stolen  by  someone  else.  Just  what  led 
him  to  commit  the  act  I  won't  say;  he  has 
been  in  a  tight  place  for  several  months  back 
in  regard  to  money.  Last  January  he  turned 
a  two-thousand  dollar  mortgage,  that  his 
father  had  given  him  on  his  twenty-first  birth 
day,  into  cash,  and  what  he  did  with  the  cash 
I  have  n't  been  able  to  discover.  In  any  case 
his  father  knows  nothing  of  the  transaction; 
he  thinks  that  Radnor  still  holds  the  mort 
gage.  This  spring  the  young  man  was  hard 
up  again,  and  no  more  mortgages  left  to  sell. 
He  probably  did  not  regard  the  appropria 
tion  of  the  bonds  as  stealing,  since  everything 
by  his  father's  will  was  to  come  to  him  ulti 
mately. 

"As  to  all  this  hocus-pocus  about  the  ha'nt, 
that  is  easily  explained.  He  needed  a  scape 
goat  on  whom  to  turn  the  blame  when  the 

C95] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

bonds  should  disappear;  so  he  and  this  Cat- 
Eye  Mose  between  them  invented  a  ghost. 
The  negro  is  a  half  crazy  fellow  who  from  the 
first  has  been  young  Gaylord's  tool;  I  don't 
think  he  knew  what  he  was  doing  sufficiently 
to  be  blamed.  As  for  Gaylord  himself,  I 
fancy  there  was  a  third  person  somewhere  in 
the  background  who  was  pressing  him  for 
money  and  who  could  n't  be  shaken  off  till  the 
money  was  forthcoming.  But  whatever  his 
motive  for  taking  the  bonds,  there  is  no  doubt 
about  the  fact,  and  I  have  come  to  you  with 
the  story  rather  than  to  his  father." 

"It  is  absolutely  impossible,"  I  returned. 
"Radnor,  whatever  his  faults,  is  an  honorable 
man  in  regard  to  money  matters.  I  have  his 
word  that  he  knows  no  more  about  the  rob 
bery  of  those  bonds  than  I  do." 

The  detective  laughed. 

"There  is  just  one  kind  of  evidence  that 
does  n't  count  for  much  in  my  profession,  and 
that  is  a  man's  word.  We  look  for  something 
a  little  more  tangible— such  as  this  for  exam 
ple." 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  an  envelope,  took 


WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN 

from  it  a  letter,  and  handed  it  to  me.  It  was 
a  typewritten  communication  from  a  firm  of 
brokers  in  Washington. 

"RADNOR  F.  GAYLORD,  Esq., 

"Four-Pools  Plantation,  Lambert  Corners,  Va. 

"Dear  Mr.  Gaylord: 

"We  are  in  receipt  of  your  favor  of  April 
29th.  in  regard  to  the  sale  of  the  bonds.  The 
market  is  rather  slow  at  present  and  we  shall 
have  to  sell  at  981/4.  If  you  care  to  hold  on  to 
them  a  few  months  longer,  there  is  every 
chance  of  the  market  picking  up,  and  we  feel 
sure  that  in  the  end  you  will  find  them  a  good 
investment. 

"Awaiting  your  further  orders  and  thank 
ing  you  for  past  favors, 
"We  are, 

"Very  truly  yours, 

"JACOBY,  HAIGHT  &  Co." 

"Where  did  you  get  hold  of  that?"  I  asked. 
"It  strikes  me  it 's  a  private  letter." 

"Very  private,"  the  young  man  agreed.  "I 
had  trouble  enough  in  getting  hold  of  it;  I 

7  [97] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

had  to  do  some  fishing  with  a  hook  and  pole 
over  the  transom  of  Mr.  Gaylord's  door.  He 
had  very  kindly  put  the  tackle  at  my  dis 
posal." 

"You  were  n't  called  down  here  to  open  the 
family's  private  letters,"  I  said  hotly. 

"I  was  called  down  here  to  find  out  who 
stole  Colonel  Gaylord's  bonds,  and  I  Ve  done 
it." 

I  was  silent  for  a  moment.  This  letter 
from  the  brokers  staggered  me.  April  twen 
ty-ninth  was  the  date  of  the  robbery,  and  I 
could  think  of  no  explanation.  Clancy,  notic 
ing  my  silence,  elaborated  his  theory  with  a 
growing  air  of  triumph. 

"This  Mose  was  left  behind  the  night  of  the 
robbery  with  orders  to  rouse  the  house  while 
Radnor  was  away.  Mose  is  a  good  actor  and 
he  fooled  you.  The  obvious  suspicion  was 
that  the  ghost  had  stolen  the  bonds  and  you 
set  out  to  find  him — a  somewhat  difficult  task 
as  he  existed  only  in  Mose's  imagination.  I 
think  when  you  reflect  upon  the  evidence,  you 
will  see  that  my  explanation  is  convincing." 

"It  is  n't  in  the  least  convincing,"  I  re- 

C98] 


WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN 

torted.  "Mose  was  not  acting;  he  saw  some 
thing  that  frightened  him  half  out  of  his 
senses.  And  that  something  was  not  Rad 
nor  masquerading  as  a  ghost,  for  Radnor 
was  out  of  the  house  when  the  robbery  took 
place." 

"Not  necessarily.  The  robbery  took  place 
early  in  the  evening  before  all  this  rumpus 
occurred.  Even  if  Mose  did  see  a  ghost,  the 
ghost  had  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"You  have  absolutely  no  proof  of  that;  it  is 
nothing  but  surmise." 

Clancy  smiled  with  an  air  of  patient  toler 
ance. 

"How  about  the  letter?"  he  inquired. 
"How  do  you  explain  that?" 

"I  don't  explain  it;  it  is  none  of  my  busi 
ness.  But  I  dare  say  Radnor  will  do  so  read 
ily  enough — there  he  is  going  toward  the  sta 
bles;  we  will  call  him  over." 

"No,  hold  on,  I  have  n't  finished  what  I 
want  to  say.  I  was  employed  by  Colonel 
Gaylord  to  find  out  who  stole  the  bonds  and  I 
have  done  so.  But  the  Colonel  did  not  sus 
pect  the  direction  my  investigations  would 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

take  or  he  never  would  have  engaged 
me.  Now  I  am  wondering  if  it  would 
not  be  kinder  not  to  let  him  know?  He  's 
had  trouble  enough  with  his  elder  son; 
Radnor  is  all  he  has  left.  The  young  man 
seems  to  me  like  a  really  decent  fellow — I 
dare  say  he  '11  straighten  up  and  amount  to 
something  yet.  Probably  he  considered  the 
money  as  practically  his  already ;  anyway  he  's 
been  decent  to  me  and  I  should  like  to  do  him 
a  service.  Now  say  we  three  talk  it  over  to 
gether  and  settle  it  out  of  court  as  it  were. 
I  've  put  in  my  time  down  here  and  I  've  got 
to  have  my  pay,  but  perhaps  it  would  be  bet 
ter  all  around  if  I  took  it  from  the  young  man 
rather  than  his  father." 

This  struck  me  as  the  best  way  out  of  the 
muddle,  and  a  very  fair  proposition,  consid 
ering  Clancy's  point  of  view.  I  myself  did 
not  for  an  instant  credit  his  suspicions,  but  I 
thought  the  wisest  thing  to  do  was  to  tell  Rad 
just  how  the  matter  stood  and  let  him  explain 
in  regard  to  the  letter.  I  left  Clancy  waiting 
in  the  summer  house  while  I  went  in  search  of 
Rad.  I  wished  to  be  the  one  to  do  the  ex- 


WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN 

plaining  as  I  knew  he  was  not  likely  to  take 
any  such  accusation  calmly. 

I  found  him  in  the  stables,  and  putting  my 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  marched  him  back 
toward  the  garden. 

"Rad,"  I  said,  "Clancy  has  formed  his  con 
clusions  as  to  how  the  bonds  left  the  safe,  and 
I  want  you  to  convince  him  that  he  is  mistaken." 

"Well?    Let 's  hear  his  conclusions." 

"He  thinks  that  you  took  them  when  you 
took  the  money." 

"You  mean  that  I  stole  them?" 

"That  's  what  he  thinks." 

"He  does,  does  he?    Well  he  can  prove  it!" 

Radnor  broke  away  from  me  and  strode 
toward  the  summer  house.  The  detective  re 
ceived  his  onslaught  placidly ;  his  manner  sug 
gested  that  he  was  used  to  dealing  with  excita 
ble  young  men. 

"Sit  down,  Mr.  Gaylord,  and  let  's  discuss 
this  matter  quietly.  If  you  listen  to  reason,  I 
assure  you  it  will  go  no  further." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  accuse  me  of 
stealing  those  bonds?"  Radnor  shouted. 

Clancy  held  up  a  warning  hand. 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Don't  talk  so  loud;  someone  will  hear  you. 
Sit  down."  He  nodded  toward  a  seat  on  the 
other  side  of  the  little  rustic  table.  "I  will  ex 
plain  the  matter  as  I  see  it,  and  if  you  can 
disprove  any  of  my  statements  I  shall  be  more 
than  glad  to  have  you." 

Radnor  subsided  and  listened  scowlingly 
while  the  detective  outlined  his  theory  in  a 
perfectly  non-personal  way,  and  ended  by 
producing  the  letter. 

"Where  did  you  get  that?"  Rad  demanded. 

"Out  of  your  coat  pocket  which  I  hooked 
over  the  transom  of  the  door."  He  made  the 
statement  imperturbably ;  it  was  evidently  a 
matter  of  everyday  routine. 

"So  you  enter  gentlemen's  houses  as  their 
guest  and  spend  your  time  sneaking  about 
reading  their  private  correspondence?" 

An  angry  gleam  appeared  in  Clancy's  eye 
and  he  rose  to  his  feet. 

"I  did  not  come  to  your  house  as  your 
guest.  I  came  on  business  for  Colonel  Gay- 
lord.  Now  that  my  business  is  completed  I 
will  make  my  report  to  him  and  go." 

Radnor  rose  also. 

£102] 


WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN 

"It 's  a  lie,  and  you  have  n't  a  word  of  proof 
to  show." 

Clancy  significantly  tapped  the  pocket  that 
held  the  letter. 

"That,"  said  Radnor  contemptuously,  "re 
fers  to  two  bonds  which  I  bought  last  winter 
with  some  money  I  got  from  selling  a  mort 
gage.  I  preferred  to  have  the  investment  in 
bonds  because  they  are  more  readily  negotia 
ble.  I  left  them  at  my  broker's  as  collateral 
for  another  investment  I  was  making.  Last 
week  I  needed  some  ready  money  and  wrote 
to  them  to  sell.  My  statement  can  easily  be 
substantiated;  no  reputable  detective  wrould 
ever  base  any  such  absurd  charge  on  the  con 
tents  of  a  letter  he  did  not  understand." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  detective,  "we  have 
tried  to  get  at  the  matter  from  the  other  end ; 
but  Jacoby,  Haight  &  Company  refuse  to 
discuss  the  affairs  of  their  clients.  I  did  not 
press  the  point  as  I  did  not  want  to  stir  up 
comment.  However,"  he  smiled,  "I  must 
confess,  Mr.  Gaylord,  that  I  think  your  ex 
planation  a  trifle  fishy.  Perhaps  you  will  an 
swer  one  question.  Did  you  mail  your  letter 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

to  them  in  Kennisburg  the  night  of  the  rob 
bery  with  a  special  delivery  stamp?" 

"It  happens  that  I  did,  but  it  was  merely  a 
coincidence  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
robbery." 

"Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  explain  why 
you  drove  to  Kennisburg  in  the  night  and 
why  you  needed  the  money  so  suddenly?" 

"No,  I  will  not.  That  is  a  matter  which 
concerns,  me  alone." 

"Very  well!  As  it  happens  I  do  not  base 
my  charge  on  the  letter ;  I  had  already  formed 
my  opinion  before  I  knew  of  its  existence. 
Do  you  deny  that  you  yourself  have  encour 
aged  the  belief  in  the  ghost  among  the  ne 
groes?  That  on  more  than  one  occasion, 
you,  or  your  accomplice,  Cat-Eye  Mose, 
have  masqueraded  as  the  ghost?  That,  while 
you  were  pretending  to  Colonel  Gaylord 
to  be  as  much  puzzled  by  the  matter  as 
he,  you  were  in  truth  at  the  bottom  of  the 
whole  business?" 

Radnor  glanced  uneasily  at  me  and  hesita 
ted  before  replying. 

"No,"  he  said  at  length,  "I  don't  deny  that, 

[104  3 


WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN 

but  I  do  affirm  that  it  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  robbery." 

The  detective  laughed. 

"You  must  excuse  me,  Mr.  Gaylord,  if  I 
stick  to  the  opinion  that  I  have  solved  the  puz 
zle." 

He  turned  with  a  motion  toward  the  house, 
and  Radnor  barred  the  entrance. 

"Do  you  think  I  lie  when  I  say  I  know 
nothing  of  those  bonds?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Gaylord,  I  do." 

For  a  moment  I  thought  that  Radnor  was 
going  to  strike  him,  but  I  pulled  him  back  and 
turned  to  Clancy. 

"He  knows  nothing  about  the  bonds,"  said 
I,  "but  nevertheless  you  must  not  take  any 
such  story  to  Colonel  Gaylord.  He  is  an  old 
man,  and  while  he  would  not  believe  his  son 
guilty  of  theft,  still  it  would  worry  him. 
There  is  something  else  that  happened  that 
night — entirely  uncriminal — but  which  we  do 
not  wish  him  to  hear  about.  Therefore  I  am 
not  going  to  let  you  go  to  him  with  this  non 
sensical  tale  that  you  have  cooked  up." 

This  was  a  trial  shot  on  my  part  but  it  hit 

DOS  3 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

the  bull's-eye.  Radnor  stared  but  said  noth- 
i  g ;  and  the  detective  visibly  wavered. 

"Now,"  I  added,  taking  out  my  check 
book,  "suppose  I  pay  you  what  you  would 
have  received  had  you  discovered  the  bonds, 
and  dispense  with  your  further  services?" 

"That  's  just  as  you  say.  I  feel  that  I  've 
done  the  job  and  am  entitled  to  the  money. 
If  you  wish  to  pay  it,  all  right;  otherwise  I 
get  it  from  Colonel  Gaylord.  I  received  a  re 
taining  fee  and  was  to  have  two  hundred  dol 
lars  more  when  I  located  the  bonds.  In  order 
not  to  stir  up  any  bad  feeling  I  'm  willing  to 
take  that  two  hundred  dollars  from  you  and 
drop  the  matter." 

"It  's  blackmail!"  said  Radnor. 

"Keep  still,  Rad,"  I  said.  "It  's  very  ac 
commodating  of  Mr.  Clancy  to  see  it  this 
way." 

I  wrote  out  a  check  and  tossed  it  to  the  de 
tective. 

"Now  go  to  Colonel  Gaylord,"  I  said,  "tell 
him  that  you  have  been  unsuccessful  in  find 
ing  any  clue;  that  the  bonds  will  almost  cer 
tainly  be  marketed  in  the  city,  and  that  your 
only  hope  of  tracing  them  is  to  work  from  the 

[106] 


WE  SEND  HIM  BACK  AGAIN 

other  end.  Then  pack  your  bag  and  go.  A 
carriage  will  be  ready  to  take  you  to  the  Junc 
tion  in  half  an  hour." 

"Just  wait  a  moment,  Mr.  Clancy,"  Had 
called  after  him  as  he  turned  away.  He  drew 
a  note  book  from  his  pocket  and  ripping  out 
a  page  scrawled  across  the  face: 

"JACOBY,  HAIGHT  AND  Co. 

"Gentlemen: — You  will  oblige  me  by  an 
swering  any  questions  which  the  bearer  of  this 
note  may  ask  concerning  my  past  transac 
tions  with  you. 

"RADNOR  F.  GAYLORD." 

"There,"  said  Had,  thrusting  it  toward  him, 
"kindly  make  use  of  that  when  you  get  to 
Washington,  and  in  the  future  I  should  ad 
vise  you  to  base  your  charges  on  something  a 
little  more  substantial." 

His  manner  was  insultingly  contemptuous, 
but  Clancy  swallowed  it  with  smiling  good 
nature. 

"I  shall  be  interested  in  continuing  the  in 
vestigation,"  he  observed  as  he  pocketed  the 
paper  and  withdrew. 

[107:1 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  ROBBERY  REMAINS  A  MYSTERY 

SO  we  got  rid  of  the  detective.  But  mat 
ters  did  not  readily  settle  down  again 
into  their  old  relations.  The  Colonel 
was  irritable,  and  Rad  was  moody  and  sullen. 
He  showed  no  tendency  to  confide  in  me  as  to 
the  truth  about  the  ha'nt,  and  I  did  not  probe 
the  matter  further.  In  a  day  or  so  he  brought 
me  three  hundred  dollars,  to  cover  the  amount 
I  had  loaned  him,  together  with  the  "black 
mail,"  as  he  insisted  upon  calling  it.  The 
money,  he  informed  me,  was  from  the  pro 
ceeds  of  the  bonds  he  had  sold.  He  showed 
me  at  the  same  time  several  letters  from  his 
brokers  establishing  beyond  a  doubt  that  the 
story  he  had  told  was  true.  As  to  the  stolen 
bonds,  their  whereabouts  was  as  much  a  mys 
tery  as  ever,  and  Rad  appeared  to  take  not 
the  slightest  interest  in  the  matter.  Since  the 
detective  had  been  summoned,  he  had  washed 
his  hands  of  all  responsibility. 

C1083 


THE  ROBBERY  A  MYSTERY 

I  think  it  was  the  morning  after  Clancy's 
departure  that  Solomon  handed  me  a  pale 
blue  envelope  bearing  in  the  upper  left- 
hand  corner  the  device  of  the  Post-Dis 
patch.  I  laughed  as  I  ripped  it  open;  I  had 
almost  forgotten  Terry's  existence.  It  con 
tained  a  characteristic  pencil  scrawl  slanting 
across  a  sheet  of  yellow  copy  paper. 

"ARNOLD  CROSBY,  ESQ., 

"Turnips  Farm,  Pumpkin  Corners,  Va. 

"Dear  Sir: 

"Enclosed  please  find  clipping.  Are  the 
facts  straight  and  have  the  missing  bonds 
turned  up  ?  If  not,  don't  you  want  me  to  run 
down  and  find  them  for  you?  Should  like  to 
meet  an  authenticated  ghost.  Would  n't  be 
a  bad  Sunday  feature  article.  Give  it  my  love. 
Is  it  a  man  or  lady?  Things  are  also  moving 
nicely  in  New  York — two  murders  and  a  child 
abducted  in  one  week. 

"How  are  crops? 

"Yours  truly, 

"T.  P. 

"Wire  me  if  you  want  me." 

[109] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

The  clipping  was  headed,  "Spook  Cracks 
Safe,"  and  was  a  fairly  accurate  account  of 
the  ha'nt  and  the  robbery.  It  ended  with  the 
remark  that  the  mystery  was  as  yet  unsolved, 
but  that  the  best  detective  talent  in  the  coun 
try  had  been  engaged  on  the  case. 

I  tossed  the  letter  to  Radnor  with  a  laugh ; 
he  had  already  heard  of  Terry's  connection 
with  the  Patter  son- Pratt  affair. 

"Perhaps  we  could  n't  do  better  than  to  get 
him  down,"  I  suggested;  "he  's  most  abnor 
mally  keen  at  ferreting  out  a  mystery  that 
promises  any  news — if  any  one  can  learn 
the  truth  about  those  bonds,  he  can." 

"I  don't  want  to  know  the  truth,"  Radnor 
growled.  "I  'm  sick  of  the  very  name  of 
bonds." 

And  this  had  been  his  attitude  from  the 
moment  the  detective  left.  My  own  insis 
tence  that  it  was  our  duty  to  track  down  the 
thief  met  with  nothing  but  a  shrug.  Another 
person  might  have  suspected  that  this  apathy 
only  proved  his  own  culpability  in  the  theft, 
but  such  a  suspicion  never  for  a  moment 
crossed  my  mind.  He  was,  as  he  said,  sick  of 


THE  ROBBERY  A  MYSTERY 

the  very  name  of  bonds,  and  with  a  person  of 
his  temperament  that  ended  the  matter. 
Though  I  did  not  comprehend  his  attitude, 
still  I  took  him  at  his  word.  There  was  some 
thing  about  Rad's  straightforward  way  of 
looking  one  in  the  eye  that  impelled  belief. 
As  I  had  heard  the  Colonel  boast,  a  Gaylord 
could  not  tell  a  lie. 

The  things  a  Gaylord  could  and  could  not 
do,  were,  I  acknowledge,  to  a  Northern  ethi 
cal  sense  a  trifle  mystifying.  A  Gaylord 
might  drink  and  gamble  and  fail  to  pay  his 
debts  (not  his  gambling  debts;  his  tailor  and 
his  grocer)  ;  he  might  be  the  hero  of  many 
doubtful  affairs  with  women;  he  might  in  a 
sudden  fit  of  passion  commit  a  murder — there 
was  more  than  one  killing  in  the  family  an 
nals — but  under  no  circumstances  would  his 
"honah"  permit  him  to  tell  a  lie.  The  reser 
vation  struck  me  somewhat  humorously  as  an 
anti-climax.  But  nevertheless  I  believed  it. 
When  Rad  said  he  knew  nothing  of  the  stolen 
bonds  I  dismissed  the  possibility  from  my 
mind. 

Though  I  was  relieved  to  feel  that  he  was 

[111] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

not  guilty,  still  I  was  worried  and  nervous 
over  the  matter.  I  felt  that  it  was  criminal 
not  to  do  something,  and  yet  my  hands  were 
tied.  I  could  scarcely  undertake  an  investi 
gation  myself,  for  every  clue  led  across  the 
trail  of  the  ha'nt,  and  that,  Rad  made  it  clear, 
was  forbidden  ground.  The  Colonel,  mean 
while,  was  comparatively  quiet,  as  he  sup 
posed  the  detective  was  still  working  on  the 
case.  I  accordingly  did  nothing,  but  I  kept 
my  eyes  open,  hoping  that  something  would 
turn  up. 

Rad's  temper  was  absolutely  unbearable 
for  the  first  week  after  the  detective  left.  The 
reason  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  stolen 
bonds,  but  was  concerned  entirely  with  Polly 
Mathers's  behavior.  She  barely  noticed  Rad's 
existence,  so  occupied  was  she  with  the  ec 
static  young  sheriff.  What  the  trouble  was, 
I  did  not  know,  but  I  suspected  that  it  was 
the  whispered  conjectures  in  regard  to  the 
ha'nt. 

I  remember  one  evening  in  particular  that 
she  snubbed  him  in  the  face  of  the  entire 
neighborhood.  We  had  arrived  at  a  party  a 


THE  ROBBERY  A  MYSTERY 

trifle  late  to  find  Polly  as  usual  the  center  of  a 
laughing  group  of  young  men,  all  clamoring 
for  dances.  They  widened  their  circle  to  ad 
mit  Rad  in  a  way  which  tacitly  acknowledged 
his  prior  claim.  He  inquired  with  his  most 
deferential  bow  what  dances  she  had  saved 
for  him.  Polly  replied  in  an  off-hand  man 
ner  that  she  was  sorry  but  her  card  was  al 
ready  full.  Rad  shrugged  nonchalantly,  and 
sauntering  toward  the  door,  disappeared  for 
the  rest  of  the  night.  When  he  turned  up  at 
Four-Pools  early  in  the  morning,  his  horse, 
Uncle  Jake  informed  me,  looked  as  if  it  had 
been  ridden  by  "de  debbil  hisself." 

With  Radnor  in  this  state,  and  the  Colo 
nel  growing  daily  more  irritable  over  the  con 
tinued  mystery  of  the  bonds,  it  is  not  strange 
that  matters  between  them  were  at  a  high 
state  of  tension.  As  I  saw  more  of  the  Colo 
nel's  treatment  of  Rad,  I  came  to  realize  that 
there  was  considerable  excuse  for  Jefferson's 
wildness.  While  he  was  a  kind  man  at  heart, 
still  he  had  an  ungovernable  temper,  and  an 
absolutely  tyrannical  desire  to  rule  every  one 
about  him.  His  was  the  only  free  will  al- 

C118] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

lowed  on  the  place.  He  attempted  to  treat 
Rad  at  twenty-two  much  as  he  had  done  at 
twelve.  A  few  months  before  my  arrival  (I 
heard  this  later)  he  had  even  struck  him, 
whereupon  Radnor  had  turned  on  his  heel  and 
walked  out  of  the  house,  and  had  only  con 
sented  to  come  back  two  weeks  later  when  he 
heard  that  the  old  man  was  ill.  If  two  men 
ever  needed  a  woman  to  manage  them,  these 
were  the  two.  I  think  that  if  my  aunt  had 
lived,  most  of  the  trouble  would  have  been 
avoided. 

Rad  was  not  the  only  one,  however,  who 
felt  the  Colonel's  irritation  over  the  robbery. 
His  treatment  of  the  servants  was  harsh  and 
even  cruel.  Everybody  on  the  place  went 
about  in  a  half -cowed  fashion.  He  treated 
Mose  like  a  dog.  Why  the  fellow  stood  it,  I 
don't  know.  The  Colonel  seemed  never  to 
have  learned  that  the  old  slave  days  were  over 
and  that  he  no  longer  owned  the  negroes  body 
and  soul.  His  government  of  the  plantation 
was  in  the  manner  of  a  despot.  Everybody 
—  from  his  own  son  to  the  merest  pickaninny 
— was  at  the  mercy  of  his  caprice.  When  he 


THE  ROBBERY  A  MYSTERY 

was  in  good  humor,  he  was  kindness  itself  to 
the  darkies;  when  he  was  in  bad  humor,  he 
vented  his  anger  on  whoever  happened  to  be 
nearest. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  feeling  of  indigna 
tion  with  which  I  first  saw  him  strike  a  man. 
A  strange  negro  was  caught  one  morning  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  chicken  coop,  and 
was  brought  up  to  the  house  by  two  of  the  sta 
ble-men.  My  uncle,  who  was  standing  on  the 
portico  steps  waiting  for  his  horse,  was  in  a 
particularly  savage  mood,  as  he  had  just  come 
from  an  altercation  with  Radnor.  The  man 
said  that  he  was  hungry  and  asked  for  work. 
But  the  Colonel,  almost  without  waiting  to 
hear  him  speak,  fell  upon  him  in  a  fit  of  blind 
rage,  slashing  him  half  a  dozen  times  over  the 
head  and  shoulders  with  his  heavy  riding  crop. 
The  negro,  who  was  a  powerfully  built  fel 
low,  instead  of  standing  up  and  defending 
himself  like  a  man,  crouched  on  the  ground 
with  his  arms  over  his  head. 

"Please,  Gunnel  Gaylord,"  he  whimpered, 
"le' me  go!  I  ain't  done  nuffen.  I  ain't  steal  no 
chickens.  For  Gord's  sake,  doan  whip  me!" 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

I  sprang  forward  with  an  angry  exclama 
tion  and  grasped  my  uncle's  arm.  The  fellow 
was  on  his  feet  instantly  and  off  down  the 
lane  without  once  glancing  back.  The  Colo 
nel  stood  a  moment  looking  from  my  indig 
nant  face  to  the  man  disappearing  in  the  dis 
tance,  and  burst  out  laughing. 

"I  reckon  I  won't  be  troubled  with  him  any 
more,"  he  remarked  as  he  mounted  and  rode 
away,  his  good  humor  apparently  quite  re 
stored. 

I  confess  that  it  took  me  some  time  to  get 
over  that  scene.  But  the  worst  of  it  was  that 
he  treated  his  own  servants  in  the  same  sum 
mary  fashion.  The  thing  that  puzzled  me 
most  was  the  way  in  which  they  received  it. 
Mose,  being  always  at  hand,  was  cuffed  about 
more  than  any  negro  on  the  place,  but  as  far 
as  I  could  make  out,  it  only  seemed  to  in 
crease  his  love  and  veneration  for  the  Colonel. 
I  don't  believe  the  situation  could  ever  be  in 
telligible  to  a  Northern  man. 

So  matters  stood  when  I  had  been  a  month 
at  Four-Pools.  My  vacation  had  lasted  long 
enough,  but  I  was  supremely  comfortable 

[116] 


THE  ROBBERY  A  MYSTERY 

and  very  loath  to  go.  The  first  few  weeks  of 
May  had  been,  to  my  starved  city  eyes,  a  daz 
zling  pageant  of  beauty.  The  landscape 
glowed  with  yellow  daffodils,  pink  peach 
blossoms,  and  the  bright  green  of  new  wheat ; 
the  fields  were  alive  with  the  frisky  joyous- 
ness  of  spring  lambs  and  colts,  turned  out  to 
pasture.  It  was  with  a  keen  feeling  of  reluc 
tance  that  I  faced  the  prospect  of  New 
York's  brick  and  stone  and  asphalt.  My 
work  was  calling,  but  I  lazily  postponed  my 
departure  from  day  to  day. 

Things  at  the  plantation  seemed  to  have 
settled  into  their  old  routine.  The  wherea 
bouts  of  the  bonds  was  still  a  mystery,  but  the 
ha'nt  had  returned  to  his  grave— at  least,  in  so 
far  as  any  manifestations  affected  the  house. 
I  believe  that  the  "sperrit  of  de  spring-hole" 
had  been  seen  rising  once  or  twice  from  a 
cloud  of  sulphurous  smoke,  but  the  excite 
ment  was  confined  strictly  to  the  negro  quar 
ters.  No  man  on  the  place  who  valued  a 
whole  skin  would  have  dared  mention  the 
word  "ha'nt"  in  Colonel  Gaylord's  presence. 
Relations  between  Rad  and  his  father  were 

CUT] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

rather  less  strained,  and  matters  on  the  whole 
were  going  pleasantly  enough,  when  there 
suddenly  fell  from  a  clear  sky  the  strange  and 
terrible  series  of  events  which  changed  every 
thing  at  Four-Pools. 


["83 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  EXPEDITION  TO  LURAY 

TOWARD  eleven  o'clock  one  morning, 
the  Colonel,  Radnor  and  I  were  es 
tablished  in  lounging  chairs  in  the 
shade  of  a  big  catalpa  tree  on  the  lawn.  It 
was  a  warm  day,  and  Rad  and  I  were  just 
back  from  a  tramp  to  the  upper  pasture — a 
full  mile  from  the  house.  We  were  address 
ing  ourselves  with  considerable  zest  to  the 
frosted  glasses  that  Solomon  had  just  placed 
on  the  table,  when  we  became  aware  of  the 
sound  of  galloping  hoofs,  and  a  moment  later 
Polly  Mathers  and  her  sorrel  mare,  Tiger 
Lilly,  appeared  at  the  end  of  the  sunflecked 
lane.  An  Irish  setter  romped  at  her  side,  and 
the  three  of  them  made  a  picture.  The  horse's 
shining  coat,  the  dog's  silky  hair  and  Polly's 
own  red  gold  curls  were  almost  of  a  color.  I 
believe  the  little  witch  had  chosen  the  two  on 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

purpose.  In  her  dark  habit  and  mannish  hat, 
with  sparkling  cheeks  and  laughing  eyes,  she 
was  as  pretty  an  apparition  as  ever  enhanced 
a  May  morning.  She  waved  her  crop  gaily 
and  rode  toward  us  across  the  lawn. 

"Howdy!"  she  called,  in  a  droll  imitation 
of  the  mountain  dialect.  "Ain't  you-uns 
guine  to  ask  me  to  'light  a  while,  an'  set  a  bit, 
an'  talk  a  spell?" 

Radnor's  face  had  flushed  quickly  as  he 
perceived  who  the  rider  was,  but  he  held  him 
self  stiffly  in  the  background  while  the  Col 
onel  and  I  did  the  honors.  It  was  the  first 
time,  I  know,  that  Polly  and  Rad  had  met 
since  the  night  she  refused  to  dance  with  him ; 
and  her  appearance  could  only  be  interpreted 
as  a  desire  to  make  amends. 

She  sprang  lightly  to  the  ground,  turned 
Tiger  Lilly  loose  to  graze  about  the  lawn, 
and  airily  perched  herself  on  the  arm  of  a 
chair.  There  was  nothing  in  her  manner,  at 
least,  to  suggest  that  her  relations  with  any 
one  of  us  were  strained.  After  a  few  mo 
ments  of  neighborly  gossip  with  the  Colonel 
and  me — Rad  was  monosyllabic  and  remote — 

[120  ] 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  LURAY 

she  arrived  at  her  errand.  Some  friends  from 
Savannah  were  stopping  at  the  Hall  on  their 
way  to  the  Virginia  hot  springs,  and,  as  is 
usual,  when  strangers  visit  the  valley,  they 
were  planning  an  expedition  to  Luray  Cave. 
The  cave  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  moun 
tains  about  ten  miles  from  Four-Pools.  Since 
I  had  not  yet  visited  it  (that  was  at  least  the 
reason  she  gave)  she  had  come  to  ask  the  three 
of  us  to  join  the  party  on  the  following  day. 
Rad  was  sulky  at  first,  and  rather  curtly 
declined  on  the  ground  that  he  had  to  attend 
to  some  business.  But  Polly  scouted  his  ex 
cuse,  and  added  significantly  that  Jim  Mat- 
tison  had  not  been  asked.  He  accepted  this 
mark  of  repentance  with  a  pleased  flush,  and 
before  she  rode  away,  he  had  become  his  for 
mer  cheerful  self  again.  The  Colonel  also  de 
murred  on  the  ground  that  he  was  getting  too 
old  for  such  diversions,  but  Polly  laid  her 
hands  upon  his  shoulders  and  coaxed  him  into 
acquiescence — even  a  mummy  must  have  un 
bent  before  such  persuasion.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  though,  the  Colonel  was  only  too  pleased 
with  his  invitation.  It  flattered  him  to  be  in- 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

eluded  with  the  young  people,  and  he  was  im 
mensely  fond  of  Polly. 

It  struck  me  suddenly  as  I  watched  her, 
how  like  she  was  to  that  other  girl,  of  eighteen 
years  before.  There  danced  in  Polly's  eyes 
the  same  eager  joy  of  life  that  vitalized  the 
face  of  the  portrait  over  the  mantelpiece  up 
stairs.  The  resemblance  for  a  moment  was 
almost  startling;  I  believe  the  same  thought 
had  come  to  Colonel  Gaylord.  The  old  man's 
eyes  dwelt  upon  her  with  a  sadly  wistful  air ; 
and  I  like  to  feel  that  it  was  of  Nannie  he  was 
thinking. 

Radnor  and  I  had  been  invited  to  a  dance 
that  same  evening  at  a  neighboring  coun 
try  house,  but  when  the  time  came,  I  begged 
off  on  the  plea  of  wishing  to  rest  for  the 
ride  the  next  morning.  The  real  reason,  I 
fancy,  was  that  I  too  was  suffering  from  a 
touch  of  Radnor's  trouble ;  and,  since  I  had  no 
chance  of  winning  her,  it  was  the  part  of  wis 
dom  to  keep  out  of  hearing  of  Polly's  laugh. 
In  any  case,  I  went  to  bed  and  to  sleep,  while 
Rad  went  to  the  party,  and  I  have  never 
known  exactly  what  happened  that  night. 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  LURAY 

I  rose  early  the  next  morning,  and  as  I 
went  down  stairs  I  saw  Solomon  crawling 
around  on  his  hands  and  knees  on  the  parlor 
floor,  collecting  the  remnants  of  a  French 
clock  which  had  stood  on  the  mantelpiece. 

"How  did  that  clock  come  to  be  broken?" 
I  asked  a  trifle  sharply,  thinking  I  had  caught 
him  in  a  bad  piece  of  carelessness. 

"Cayn't  say,  sah,"  Solomon  returned,  ris 
ing  on  his  knees  and  looking  at  me  mourn 
fully.  "I  specs  ole  Marsa  been  chastisin' 
young  Marsa  again.  It  's  powe'ful  destruc 
tive  on  de  brick-yuh-brack." 

I  went  on  out  of  doors,  wondering  sadly  if 
Radnor  could  have  been  drinking,  and  accus 
ing  myself  for  not  having  gone  to  the  party 
and  kept  him  straight.  It  was  evident  at 
breakfast  that  something  serious  had  hap 
pened  between  him  and  his  father.  The  Col 
onel  appeared  unusually  grave,  and  Rad, 
after  a  gruff  "good  morning,"  sat  staring  at 
his  plate  in  a  dogged  silence.  Throughout  the 
meal  he  scarcely  so  much  as  exchanged  a 
glance  with  his  father.  I  tried  to  talk  as  if  I 
noticed  nothing;  and  in  the  course  of  the 

[123] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

somewhat  one-sided  conversation,  happened 
to  mention  our  proposed  trip  to  Luray.  Rad 
returned  that  he  had  visited  the  cave  a  good 
many  times  and  did  not  care  about  going.  I 
was  puzzled  at  this,  for  I  knew  that  the  cave 
was  not  the  chief  attraction,  but  I  discreetly 
dropped  the  subject  and  shortly  after  we  rose 
from  the  table. 

As  I  left  the  room  I  saw  the  Colonel  walk 
over  and  lay  his  hand  on  Radnor's  arm. 

"You  will  change  your  mind  and  go,  my 
boy,"  he  said. 

But  Rad  shook  the  hand  off  roughly  and 
turned  away.  As  I  went  on  out  to  the  stables  to 
give  orders  about  the  horses,  I  felt  in  anything 
but  the  proper  spirits  for  a  day  of  merry-mak 
ing.  However  much  the  Colonel  may  have 
been  to  blame  in  their  quarrel  of  the  night  be 
fore — and  the  French  clock  told  its  own  story 
—still  I  could  not  help  but  feel  that  Rad  should 
have  borne  with  him  more  patiently.  The 
scene  I  had  just  witnessed  in  the  dining-room 
made  me  miserable.  The  Colonel  was  a  proud 
man  and  apology  came  hard  for  him,  his  son 
might  at  least  have  met  him  half  way. 

[124] 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  LURAY 

Going  upstairs  to  my  room  a  few  minutes 
later,  I  caught  a  glimpse  through  the  open 
door,  of  someone  standing  before  the  mantel 
piece.  Thinking  it  was  Radnor  waiting  to 
consult  me,  I  hurried  forward  and  reached 
the  threshold  before  I  realized  that  it  was  the 
Colonel.  He  was  standing  with  folded  arms 
before  the  picture,  his  eyes,  gleaming  from 
under  beetling  brows,  were  devouring  it  hun 
grily,  line  by  line.  His  face  was  set  rigidly 
with  a  look — whether  of  sorrow  or  loneliness 
or  remorse,  I  do  not  know;  but  I  do  know 
that  it  was  the  saddest  expression  I  have  ever 
seen  on  any  human  face.  It  was  as  if,  in  a 
single  illuminating  flash,  he  had  looked  into 
his  own  soul,  and  seen  the  ruin  that  his  un- 
governed  pride  and  passion  had  wrought 
against  those  he  loved  the  most. 

So  absorbed  had  he  been  with  his  thoughts, 
that  he  had  not  heard  my  step.  I  turned  and 
stole  away,  realizing  suddenly  that  he  was  an 
old  man,  broken,  infirm;  that  his  life  with  its 
influence  for  good  or  evil  was  already  at  an 
end ;  he  could  never  change  his  character  now, 
no  matter  how  keenly  he  might  realize  his  de- 

C125] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

fects.  Poor  little  Nannie's  wilfulness  was  at 
last  forgiven,  but  the  forgiveness  was  fifteen 
years  too  late.  Why  could  not  that  moment 
of  insight  have  come  earlier  to  Colonel  Gay- 
lord,  have  come  in  time  to  save  him  from  his 
mistakes  ? 

I  passed  out  of  doors  again,  pondering 
somewhat  bitterly  the  exigencies  of  human 
life.  The  bright  spring  morning  with  its 
promise  of  youth  and  joy  seemed  jarringly 
out  of  tune.  The  beauty  was  but  surface 
deep,  I  told  myself  pessimistically;  under 
neath  it  was  a  cruel  world.  Before  me  in  the 
garden  path,  a  jubilant  robin  was  pulling  an 
unhappy  angle  worm  from  the  ground,  and  a 
little  farther  on,  under  a  blossoming  apple 
tree,  the  kitchen  cat  was  breakfasting  on  a 
baby  robin.  The  double  spectacle  struck  me 
as  significant  of  life.  I  was  casting  about  for 
some  philosophical  truths  to  fit  it,  when  my 
revery  was  interrupted  by  a  shout  from  Rad 
nor. 

I  turned  to  find  the  horses— three  of  them 
— waiting  at  the  portico  steps.  Rad  w^as  go 
ing  then  after  all.  He  and  his  father  had  evi- 

C1263 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  LURAY 

dently  patched  up  some  sort  of  a  truce,  but  I 
soon  saw  that  it  was  only  a  truce.  The  two 
avoided  crossing  eyes,  and  as  we  rode  along 
they  talked  to  me  instead  of  to  each  other. 

The  party  met  at  Mathers  Hall.  The  plan 
was  for  us  to  ride  to  Luray  that  morning, 
spend  most  of  the  afternoon  there,  and  then 
return  to  the  Hall  for  a  supper  and  dance  in 
the  evening.  The  elder  ladies  took  the  car 
riage,  while  the  rest  of  us  went  on  horseback, 
a  couple  of  servants  following  in  the  buck- 
board  with  the  luncheon.  Mose,  bare-feet, 
linsey-woolsey  and  all,  was  brought  along  to 
act  as  guide  and  he  was  fairly  purring  with 
contentment  at  the  importance  it  gave  him 
over  the  other  negroes.  It  seems  that  he  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  finding  his  way  around  in 
the  cave  ever  since  he  was  a  little  shaver,  and 
he  knew  the  route,  Radnor  told  me,  better 
than  the  professional  guides.  He  knew  it  so 
well,  in  fact,  that  the  entire  neighborhood  was 
in  the  habit  of  borrowing  him  whenever  expe 
ditions  were  being  planned  to  Luray. 

We  left  our  horses  at.  the  village  hotel,  and 
after  eating  a  picnic  lunch  in  the  woods,  set 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

out  to  make  the  usual  round  of  the  cave.  Lu- 
ray  has  since  been  lighted  with  electricity  and 
laid  out  in  cement  walks,  but  the  time  of 
which  I  am  writing  was  before  its  exploita 
tion  by  the  railroad,  and  the  cavern  was  still 
in  its  natural  state.  Each  of  us  carried  either 
candles  or  a  torch,  and  the  guides  were  sup 
plied  with  calcium  lights  which  they  touched 
off  at  intervals  whenever  there  was  any  spe 
cial  object  of  interest.  This  was  the  first  cav 
ern  of  any  size  that  I  had  ever  visited  and  I 
was  so  taken  up  with  examining  the  rock  for 
mations  and  keeping  my  torch  from  burning 
my  hands  that  I  did  not  pay  much  attention 
to  the  disposal  of  the  rest  of  the  party.  It 
took  over  two  hours  to  make  the  round,  and 
we  must  have  walked  about  five  miles.  What 
with  the  heavy  damp  air  and  the  slippery 
path,  I,  for  one,  was  glad  to  get  out  into  the 
sunshine  again. 

I  joined  the  group  about  Polly  Mathers 
and  casually  asked  if  she  knew  where  Radnor 
had  gone. 

"I  have  n't  seen  him  for  some  time;  I  think 
he  must  have  come  out  before  us,"  she  replied. 

C128] 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  LURAY 

"And  unless  I  am  mistaken,  Colonel  Gay- 
lord,"  she  added,  turning  to  my  uncle,  "he  left 
my  coat  on  that  broken  column  above  Crystal 
Lake.  I  am  afraid  that  he  is  n't  a  very  good 
cavalier." 

The  Colonel,  I  imagine,  had  been  a  very 
good  cavalier  in  his  own  youth,  and  I  do  not 
think  that  he  had  entirely  outgrown  it. 

"I  will  repair  his  fault,  Miss  Polly,"  the 
old  man  returned  with  a  courtly  bow,  "and 
prove  to  you  that  the  boy  does  not  take  after 
his  father  in  lack  of  gallantry." 

"No,  indeed,  Colonel  Gaylord!"  Polly  ex 
claimed.  "I  was  only  joking;  I  should  n't 
think  of  letting  you  go  back  after  it.  One  of 
the  servants  can  get  it." 

I  shortly  after  ran  across  Mose  and  sent 
him  back  for  the  coat,  and  the  incident  was 
forgotten.  We  straggled  back  to  the  hotel  in 
twos  and  threes ;  the  horses  were  brought  out, 
and  we  got  off  amidst  general  confusion. 

I  rode  beside  the  carriage  for  a  couple  of 
miles  exchanging  courtesies  with  Mrs.  Math 
ers,  and  then  galloped  ahead  to  join  the  other 
riders.  I  was  surprised  to  see  neither  my  un- 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

cle  nor  Radnor  anywhere  in  sight,  and  in 
quired  as  to  their  whereabouts. 

"I  thought  they  were  riding  with  you,"  said 
Polly,  wheeling  to  my  side.  "You  don't  sup 
pose,"  she  asked  quickly,  "that  the  Colonel 
was  foolish  enough  to  go  back  for  my  coat, 
and  we  Ve  left  him  behind?" 

One  of  the  men  laughed. 

"He  has  a  horse,  Miss  Polly,  and  he  knows 
how  to  use  it.  I  dare  say,  even  if  we  did  leave 
him  behind,  that  he  can  find  his  way  home." 

"I  sent  Mose  back  for  the  coat,"  I  re 
marked.  "The  Colonel  probably  feels  that  he 
has  had  enough  frivolity  for  one  day,  and  has 
preferred  to  ride  straight  on  to  Four-Pools." 

It  occurred  to  me  that  Rad  and  his  father 
had  ridden  home  together  to  make  up  their 
quarrel,  and  the  reflection  added  considera 
bly  to  my  peace  of  mind.  I  had  felt  vaguely 
uncomfortable  over  the  matter  all  day,  for  I 
knew  that  the  old  man  was  always  miserable 
after  a  misunderstanding  with  his  son,  and  I 
strongly  suspected  that  Radnor  himself  was 
far  from  happy. 

When  we  arrived  at  Mathers  Hall,  Polly 


THE  EXPEDITION  TO  LURAY 

slipped  from  her  saddle  and  came  running  up 
to  me  as  I  was  about  to  dismount.  She  laid 
her  hand  on  the  bridle  and  asked,  in  the  sweet 
est  way  possible,  if  I  would  mind  riding  back 
to  the  plantation  to  see  if  the  Colonel  were 
really  there,  as  she  could  not  help  feeling  an 
xious  about  him.  I  noticed  with  a  smile  that 
she  made  no  comment  on  the  younger  man's 
defection,  though  I  strongly  suspected  that 
she  was  no  less  interested  in  that.  I  turned 
about  and  galloped  off  again,  willing  enough 
to  do  her  bidding,  though  I  could  not  help 
reflecting  that  it  would  have  been  just  as  easy 
for  her,  and  considerably  easier  for  me,  had 
she  developed  her  anxiety  a  few  miles  back. 

When  I  reached  the  four  corners  where  the 
road  to  Four-Pools  branches  off  from  the 
valley  turnpike,  I  saw  the  wagon  coming  with 
the  two  Mathers  negroes  in  it,  but  without 
any  sign  of  Mose.  I  drew  up  and  waited  for 
them. 

"Hello,  boys!"  I  called.  "What  's  become 
of  Mose  ?" 

"Dat  's  mob  'n  I  can  say,  Mista  Ahnold." 
one  of  the  men  returned.  "We  waited  foh 

C181] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

him  a  powe'ful  while,  but  it  'pears  like  he  's 
'vaporated.  I  reckon  he  's  took  to  de  woods 
an'  is  gwine  to  walk  home.  Dat  Cat-Eye 
Mose,  he  's  monstrous  fond  ob  walkin' !" 

I  do  not  know  why  this  incident  should  have 
aroused  my  own  anxiety,  but  I  pushed  on  to 
the  plantation  with  a  growing  feeling  of  un 
easiness.  Nothing  had  been  seen  of  either  the 
Colonel  or  Mose,  Solomon  informed  me,  but 
he  added  with  an  excited  rolling  of  his  eyes : 

"Marse  Rad,  he  come  back  nearly  an  hour 
ago  an'  stomp  roun'  like  he  mos'  crazy,  an' 
den  went  out  to  de  gahden." 

I  followed  him  and  found  him  sitting  in  the 
summer  house  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees 
and  his  head  in  his  hands. 

"What  's  the  matter,  Rad?"  I  cried  in 
alarm.  "Has  anything  happened  to  your 
father?" 

He  looked  up  with  a  start  at  the  sound  of 
my  voice,  and  I  saw  that  his  face  was  pale. 

"My  father?"  he  asked  in  a  dazed  way.  "I 
left  him  in  the  cave.  Why  do  you  ask?" 

"He  did  n't  come  back  with  the  rest  of  us, 
and  Polly  asked  me  to  find  him." 


"He  's  old  enough  to  take  care  of  himself," 
said  Radnor  without  looking  up. 

I  hesitated  a  moment,  uncertain  what  to  do, 
and  then  turned  back  to  the  stables  to  order  a 
fresh  horse.  To  my  astonishment  I  found  the 
stable-men  gathered  in  a  group  about  Rad's 
mare,  Jennie  Loo.  She  was  dashed  with 
foam  and  trembling,  and  appeared  to  be 
about  used  up.  The  men  fell  back  and  eyed 
me  silently  as  I  approached. 

"What  's  happened  to  the  horse?"  I  cried. 
"Did  she  run  away?" 

One  of  the  men  "reckoned"  that  "Marse 
Rad"  had  been  whipping  her. 

"Whipping  her!"  I  exclaimed  in  dismay. 
It  was  unbelievable,  for  no  one  as  a  rule  was 
kinder  to  animals  than  Radnor ;  and  as  for  his 
own  Jennie  Loo,  he  could  n't  have  cared  more 
for  her  if  she  had  been  a  human  being.  There 
was  no  mistaking  it  however.  She  was 
crossed  and  recrossed  with  thick  welts  about 
the  withers ;  it  was  evident  that  the  poor  beast 
had  been  disgracefully  handled. 

Uncle  Jake  volunteered  that  Rad  had  gal 
loped  straight  into  the  stable,  had  dropped 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

the  bridle  and  walked  off  without  a  word; 
and  he  added  the  opinion  that  a  "debbil  had 
done  conjured  him."  I  was  inclined  to  agree. 
There  seemed  to  be  something  in  the  air  that 
I  did  not  understand,  and  my  anxiety  for  the 
Colonel  suddenly  rushed  back  fourfold.  I 
wheeled  about  and  ordered  a  horse  in  an  un 
necessarily  sharp  tone,  and  the  men  jumped 
to  obey  me. 

It  was  just  sunset  as  I  mounted  again  and 
galloped  down  the  lane.  For  the  second  time 
that  day  I  set  out  along  the  lonely  mountain 
road  leading  to  Luray,  but  this  time  with  a 
vague  fear  gripping  at  my  heart.  Why  had 
Radnor  acted  so  strangely,  I  asked  myself 
again  and  again.  Could  it  be  connected  with 
last  night's  quarrel  ?  And  where  was  the  Col 
onel,  and  where  was  Mose? 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  CAVE 

IT  was  almost  dark  by  the  time  I  reached 
the  village  of  Luray.  I  galloped  up  to 
the  hotel  where  we  had  left  our  horses 
that  morning  and  without  dismounting  called 
out  to  the  loafers  on  the  veranda  to  ask  if 
anyone  had  seen  Colonel  Gaylord.  Two  or 
three  of  them,  glad  of  a  diversion,  got  up  and 
sauntered  out  to  the  stepping-stone  where  I 
waited,  to  discuss  the  situation. 

What  was  the  matter?  they  inquired. 
Had  n't  the  Colonel  gone  home  with  the  rest 
of  the  party? 

No,  he  had  not,  I  returned  impatiently,  and 
I  wanted  to  know  if  any  of  them  had  seen  him. 

They  consulted  together  and  finally  decided 
that  no  one  had  seen  him,  and  at  this  the  sta 
ble  boy  vouchsafed  the  information  that  Red 
Pepper  was  still  in  the  barn. 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"I  thought  maybe  the  Colonel  was  intend 
ing  to  make  me  a  present  of  that  horse,"  the 
landlord  observed  with  a  grin,  as  he  joined  the 
group. 

A  chuckle  ran  around  the  circle  at  this  sally. 
It  was  evident  that  the  Colonel  did  not  have 
a  reputation  in  the  county  for  making  pres 
ents.  I  impatiently  gathered  up  my  reins  and 
one  of  the  men  remarked : 

"I  reckon  young  Gaylord  got  home  in  good 
time.  He  was  in  an  almighty  hurry  when  he 
started.  He  did  n't  stop  for  no  farewells." 

With  numerous  interruptions  and  humor 
ous  interpolations,  they  finally  managed  to 
tell  me  in  their  exasperatingly  slow  drawl  that 
Rad  had  come  back  to  the  hotel  that  after 
noon  before  the  rest  of  the  party,  had  drunk 
two  glasses  of  brandy,  called  for  his  horse,  and 
galloped  off  without  speaking  a  word  to  any 
one  except  to  swear  at  the  stable  boy.  The 
speaker  finished  with  the  assertion  that  in  his 
opinion  Rad  Gaylord  and  Jeff  Gaylord  were 
cut  out  of  the  same  block. 
.  I  shifted  my  seat  uneasily.  This  informa 
tion  did  not  tend  to  throw  any  light  on  the 

C1363 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  CAVE 

question  of  the  Colonel's  whereabouts,  and  I 
was  in  no  mood  just  then  to  listen  to  any  more 
gossip  about  Rad. 

"I  'm  not  looking  for  young  Gaylord,"  I 
said  shortly.  "I  know  where  he  is.  It  's  the 
Colonel  I  'm  after.  Neither  he  nor  Cat- 
Eye  Mose  have  come  back,  and  I  'm  afraid 
they  're  lost  in  the  cave." 

The  men  laughed  at  this.  People  did  n't 
get  lost  in  the  cave,  they  said.  All  anyone  had 
to  do  was  to  follow  the  path;  and  besides,  if 
the  Colonel  was  with  Mose  he  could  n't  get 
lost  if  he  tried.  Mose  knew  the  cave  so  well 
that  he  could  find  his  way  around  it  in  the 
dark.  Colonel  Gaylord  had  probably  met 
some  friends  in  the  village  and  driven  home 
with  them. 

But  I  would  not  be  satisfied  with  an  expla 
nation  of  that  sort.  The  Colonel,  I  knew,  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  abandoning  horses  in  any 
such  casual  manner;  and  even  supposing  he 
had  gone  home  with  some  friends,  he  would 
scarcely  have  taken  Mose  along. 

I  dismounted,  turned  my  horse  over  to  the 
stable  boy,  and  announced  that  the  cave  must 

CIST] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

be  searched.  This  request  was  received  with 
some  amusement.  The  idea  of  getting  out  a 
search  party  for  Cat-Eye  Mose  struck  them 
as  peculiarly  ludicrous.  But  I  insisted,  and 
finally  one  of  the  men  who  was  in  the  habit  of 
acting  as  guide,  took  his  feet  down  from  the 
veranda  railing  with  a  grunt  of  disapproval 
and  shambled  into  the  house  after  some  can 
dles  and  a  lantern.  Two  or  three  of  the  others 
joined  the  expedition  after  a  good  deal  of 
chaffing  at  my  expense. 

We  set  out  for  the  mouth  of  the  cave  by  a 
short  cut  that  led  across  the  fields.  It  was 
quite  dark  by  this  time,  and  as  there  was  no 
moon  our  one  lantern  did  not  go  far  toward 
lighting  the  path.  We  stumbled  along  over 
plowed  ground  and  through  swampy  pastures 
to  the  music  of  croaking  frogs  and  whip-poor- 
wills.  At  first  the  way  was  enlivened  by  hu 
morous  suggestions  on  the  part  of  my  com 
panions  as  to  what  had  become  of  Colonel 
Gaylord,  but  as  I  did  not  respond  very  freely 
to  their  bantering,  they  finally  fell  silent  with 
only  an  occasional  imprecation  as  someone 
stubbed  his  toe  or  caught  his  clothing  on  a 

[138] 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  CAVE 

brier.  After  a  half  hour  or  so  of  plodding  we 
came  to  a  clear  path  through  the  woods  and 
in  a  few  minutes  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
cave. 

A  rough  little  shanty  was  built  over  the  en 
trance.  It  was  closed  by  a  ramshackle  door 
which  a  child  could  have  opened  without  any 
difficulty;  there  was  at  least  no  danger  of  the 
Colonel's  having  been  locked  inside.  Light 
ing  our  candles,  we  descended  the  rough  stone 
staircase  into  the  first  great  vault,  which 
forms  a  sort  of  vestibule  to  the  caverns.  With 
our  hands  to  our  mouths  we  hallooed  several 
times  and  then  held  our  breath  while  we 
waited  for  an  answer.  The  only  sound  which 
came  out  of  the  stillness  was  the  occasional 
drip  of  water  or  the  flap  of  a  bat's  wing.  Had 
the  Colonel  been  lost  in  any  of  the  winding 
passages  he  must  have  heard  us  and  replied, 
for  the  slightest  sound  is  audible  in  such  a 
cavern,  echoing  and  re-echoing  as  it  does 
through  countless  vaulted  galleries.  The  si 
lence,  however,  instead  of  assuring  me  that  he 
was  not  there  only  increased  my  uneasiness. 
What  if  he  had  slipped  on  the  wet  clay,  and 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

having  injured  himself,  was  lying  uncon 
scious  in  the  darkness  ? 

The  men  wished  to  turn  back,  but  I  insisted 
that  we  go  as  far  as  the  broken  column  which 
lies  in  a  little  gallery  above  Crystal  Lake. 
That  was  the  place  where  the  coat  had  been 
left,  and  we  could  at  least  find  out  if  either  the 
Colonel  or  Mose  had  returned  for  it.  We  set 
out  in  single  file  along  the  damp  clay  path, 
the  light  from  our  few  candles  only  serving  to 
intensify  the  blackness  around  us.  The  huge 
white  forms  of  the  stalactites  seemed  to  fol 
low  us  like  ghosts  in  the  gloom;  every  now  and 
then  a  bat  flapped  past  our  faces,  and  I  won 
dered  with  a  shiver  how  anyone  could  get  up 
courage  to  go  alone  into  such  a  hole  as  that. 

"Crystal  Lake"  is  a  shallow  pool  lying  in  a 
sort  of  bowl.  On  the  farther  side  the  path 
runs  up  seven  or  eight  feet  above  the  water 
along  the  broken  edge  of  a  cliff.  A  few  steps 
beyond  the  pool  the  path  diverges  sharply  to 
the  left  and  opens  into  the  little  gallery  of  the 
broken  column. 

Just  as  we  were  about  to  ascend  the  two  or 
three  stone  steps  leading  to  the  incline,  the 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  CAVE 

guide  in  front  stopped  short,  and  clutching 
me  by  the  arm  pointed  a  shaking  forefinger 
toward  the  pool. 

"What  's  that?"  he  gasped. 

I  strained  my  eyes  into  the  darkness  but  I 
could  see  nothing. 

"There,  that  black  thing  under  the  bank," 
he  said,  raising  his  candle  and  throwing  the 
light  over  the  water. 

We  all  saw  it  now  and  recognized  it  with  a 
thrill  of  horror.  It  was  the  body  of  Colonel 
Gaylord.  He  wras  lying  on  his  face  at  the 
bottom  of  the  pool,  and  with  outstretched 
arms  was  clutching  the  mud  in  his  hands.  The 
still  water  above  him  was  as  clear  as  crystal 
but  was  tinged  with  red. 

"It  's  my  uncle!"  I  cried,  springing  for 
ward.  "He  's  fallen  over  the  bank.  He  may 
not  be  dead." 

But  they  held  me  back. 

"He  's  as  dead  as  he  ever  will  be,"  the  guide 
said  grimly.  "An'  what  's  more,  Colonel 
Gaylord  warn't  the  man  to  drown  in  three 
foot  o'  water  without  making  a  struggle. 
This  ain't  no  accident.  It  's  murder!  We 

C141] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

must  go  back  an'  get  the  coroner.    It 's  agen 
the  law  to  touch  the  body  until  he  comes." 

It  went  to  my  heart  to  leave  the  old  man  ly 
ing  there  at  the  bottom  of  that  pool,  but  I 
could  not  prevail  on  one  of  them  to  help  me 
move  him.  The  coroner  must  be  brought, 
they  stubbornly  insisted,  and  they  restrained 
me  forcibly  when  I  would  have  waded  into 
the  water.  We  turned  back  with  shaking 
knees  and  hurried  toward  the  mouth  of  the 
cave,  slipping  and  sliding  in  the  wet  clay  as 
we  ran.  I,  for  one,  felt  as  though  a  dozen 
assassins  were  following  our  footsteps  in  the 
dark.  And  all  the  time  I  had  a  sickening  feel 
ing  that  my  uncle's  death  only  foreshadowed 
a  more  terrible  tragedy.  The  guide's:  "This 
ain't  no  accident;  it 's  murder,"  kept  running 
in  my  head,  and  much  as  I  tried  to  drive  the 
thought  from  me,  a  horrible  suspicion  came 
creeping  to  my  mind  that  I  knew  who  the 
murderer  must  be. 


CMS] 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  SHERIFF  VISITS  FOUR-POOLS 

WE  found  the  coroner  and  told  our 
story.  He  sent  word  to  Kennis- 
burg,  the  county-seat,  for  the 
sheriff  to  come ;  and  then  having  called  a  doc 
tor  and  three  or  four  other  witnesses,  we  set 
out  again  for  the  cave.  The  news  of  the  trag 
edy  had  spread  like  wild-fire,  and  half  the 
town  of  Luray  would  have  accompanied  us 
had  the  coroner  not  forcibly  prevented  it. 
He  stationed  two  men  at  the  entrance  of  the 
cave  to  keep  the  crowd  from  pushing  in.  I 
myself  should  have  been  more  than  willing  to 
wait  outside,  but  I  felt  that  it  was  my  duty  by 
Radnor  to  be  present.  If  any  discoveries 
were  made  I  wished  to  be  the  first  to  know  it. 
It  was  sad  business  and  I  will  not  dwell 
upon  it.  One  side  of  the  old  man's  head  had 
been  fractured  by  a  heavy  blow.  He  had  been 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

dead  several  hours  when  we  found  him,  but 
the  doctor  could  not  be  certain  whether 
drowning,  or  the  injury  he  had  sustained,  had 
been  the  immediate  cause  of  death.  Dangling 
from  a  jagged  piece  of  rock  half  way  down 
the  cliff,  wre  found  Polly  Mathers's  coat,  torn 
and  drabbled  \vith  mud.  The  clay  path  above 
the  pool  was  trampled  in  every  direction  'way 
out  to  the  brink  of  the  precipice;  it  was  evi 
dent,  even  to  the  most  untrained  observer,  that 
a  fierce  struggle  of  some  sort  had  taken  place. 
I  was  the  first  one  to  examine  the  marks,  and 
as  I  knelt  down  and  held  the  light  to  the 
ground,  I  saw  with  a  thrill  of  mingled  horror 
and  hope  that  one  pair  of  feet  had  been  bare. 
Mose  had  taken  part  in  the  struggle,  and 
dreadful  as  was  the  assurance,  it  was  infinitely 
better  than  that  other  suspicion. 

"It  was  Mose  who  committed  the  murder!" 
I  cried  to  the  coroner  as  I  pointed  to  the  foot 
prints  in  the  clay. 

He  bent  over  beside  me  and  examined  the 
marks. 

"Ah Mose  was  present,"  he  said  slowly, 

"but  so  was  someone  else.  See,  here  is  the 

[144  3 


THE  SHERIFF 

print  of  the  Colonel's  boot  and  there  beside  it 
is  the  print  of  another  boot ;  it  is  fully  an  inch 
broader." 

But  it  was  difficult  to  make  out  anything 
clearly,  so  trampled  was  the  path.  Our 
whole  party  had  passed  over  the  very  spot 
not  an  hour  before  the  tragedy.  What 
ever  the  others  could  see,  I,  myself,  was  blind 
to  everything  but  the  indisputable  fact  that 
Mose  had  been  there. 

As  we  were  making  ready  to  start  back  to 
the  mouth  of  the  cave,  a  cry  from  one  of  the 
men  called  our  attention  again  to  the  scene  of 
the  struggle.  He  held  up  in  his  hand  a 
small,  gleaming  object  which  he  had  found 
trodden  into  the  path.  It  was  a  silver  match 
box  covered  with  dents  and  mud  and  marked 
"R.  F.  G."  I  recognized  it  instantly;  I  had 
seen  Radnor  take  it  from  his  pocket  a  hun 
dred  times.  As  I  looked  at  it  now  my  hope 
seemed  to  vanish  and  that  same  sickening  sus 
picion  rushed  over  me  again.  The  men  eyed 
each  other  silently,  and  I  did  not  have  to  ask 
what  they  were  thinking  of.  We  turned  with 
out  comments  and  started  on  our  journey 

10 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

back  to  the  village.  The  body  was  carried  to 
the  hotel  to  await  the  coroner's  permission  to 
take  it  home  to  Four-Pools.  There  was  noth 
ing  more  for  me  to  do,  and  with  a  heavy 
heart  I  mounted  again  to  return  to  the  plan 
tation. 

Scarcely  had  I  left  the  stable  yard  when  I 
heard  hoofs  pounding  along  behind  me  in  the 
darkness,  and  Jim  Mattison  galloped  up  with 
two  of  his  men. 

"If  you  are  going  to  Four-Pools  we  will 
ride  with  you,"  he  said,  falling  into  pace  be 
side  me  while  the  officers  dropped  behind.  "I 
might  as  well  tell  you,"  he  added,  "that  it 
looks  black  for  Radnor.  I  'm  sorry,  but 
it  's  my  duty  to  keep  him  under  arrest  until 
some  pretty  strong  counter-evidence  turns 
up." 

"Where  's  Cat-Eye  Mose?"  I  cried.  "Why 
don't  you  arrest  him?" 

The  sheriff  made  a  gesture  of  disdain. 

"That 's  nonsense.  Everyone  in  the  county 
knows  Cat-Eye  Mose.  He  would  n't  hurt  a 
fly.  If  he  was  present  at  the  time  of  the  crime 
it  was  to  help  his  master,  and  the  man  who 
killed  Colonel  Gaylord  killed  him  too.  I  Ve 

[146  3 


THE  SHERIFF 

known  him  all  my  life  and  I  can  swear  he  's 
innocent." 

"You  Ve  known  Radnor  all  your  life,"  I  re 
turned  bitterly. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  have — and  Jefferson 
Gaylord,  too." 

I  rode  on  in  silence  and  I  do  not  think  I 
ever  hated  anyone  as,  for  the  moment,  I  hated 
the  man  beside  me.  I  knew  that  he  was  think 
ing  of  Polly  Mathers,  and  I  imagined  that  I 
could  detect  an  undertone  of  triumph  in  his 
voice. 

"It 's  well  known,"  he  went  on,  half  to  him 
self  and  half  to  me,  "that  Radnor  sometimes 
had  high  words  with  his  father;  and  to-day, 
they  tell  me  at  the  hotel,  he  came  back  alone 
without  waiting  for  the  others,  and  while  his 
horse  was  being  saddled  he  drank  off  two 
glasses  of  brandy  as  if  they  had  been  water. 
All  the  men  on  the  veranda  marked  how  white 
his  face  was,  and  how  he  cursed  the  stable  boy 
for  being  slow.  It  was  evident  that  some 
thing  had  happened  in  the  cave,  and  what 
with  finding  his  match  box  at  the  scene  of 
the  crime— circumstantial  evidence  is  pretty 
strong  against  him." 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

I  was  too  miserable  to  think  of  any  answer ; 
and,  the  fellow  finally  having  the  decency  to 
keep  quiet,  we  galloped  the  rest  of  the  way  in 
silence. 

Though  it  must  have  been  long  after  mid 
night  when  we  reached  the  house,  lights  were 
still  burning  in  the  downstairs  rooms.  We 
rode  up  to  the  portico  with  considerable 
clamor  and  dismounted.  One  of  the  men  held 
the  horses  while  Mattison  and  the  other  fol 
lowed  me  into  the  house.  Rad  himself,  hear 
ing  the  noise  of  our  arrival,  came  to  the  door 
to  meet  us.  He  was  quite  composed  again 
and  spoke  in  his  usual  manner. 

"Hello,  Arnold!  Did  you  find  him,  and  is 
the  party  over?" 

He  stopped  uncertainly  as  he  caught  sight 
of  the  others.  They  stepped  into  the  hall  and 
stood  watching  him  a  moment  without  saying 
anything.  I  tried  to  tell  him  but  the  words 
seemed  to  stick  in  my  throat. 

"A — a  terrible  thing  has  happened,  Rad,"  I 
stammered  out. 

"What  's  the  matter?"  he  asked,  a  sudden 
look  of  anxiety  springing  to  his  face. 


THE  SHERIFF 

"I  am  sorry,  Rad,"  Mattison  replied,  "but 
it  is  my  duty  to  arrest  you." 

"To  arrest  me,  for  what?"  he  asked  with  a 
half  laugh. 

"For  the  murder  of  your  father." 

Radnor  put  out  his  hand  against  the  wall  to 
steady  himself,  and  his  lips  showed  white  in 
the  lamp  light.  At  the  sight  of  his  face  I 
could  have  sworn  that  he  was  not  acting,  and 
that  the  news  came  with  as  much  of  a  shock  to 
him  as  it  had  to  me. 

"My  father  murdered !"  he  gasped.  "What 
do  you  mean?" 

"His  dead  body  was  found  in  the  cave,  and 
circumstantial  evidence  points  to  you." 

He  seemed  too  dazed  to  grasp  the  words 
and  Mattison  said  it  twice  before  he  compre 
hended. 

"Do  you  mean  he  's  dead?"  Rad  repeated. 
"And  I  quarrelled  with  him  last  night  and 
would  n't  make  it  up— and  now  it 's  too  late." 

"I  must  warn  you,"  the  sheriff  returned, 
"that  whatever  you  say  will  be  used  against 

you." 

"I  am  innocent,"  said  Radmpr,  brokenly, 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

and  without  another  word  he  prepared  to  go. 
Mattison  drew  some  hand-cuffs  from  his 
pocket,  and  Radnor  looked  at  them  with  a 
dark  flush. 

"You  need  n't  be  afraid.  I  am  not  going 
to  run  away,"  he  said.  Mattison  dropped 
them  back  again  with  a  muttered  apology. 

I  went  out  to  the  stable  with  one  of  the  men 
and  helped  to  saddle  Jennie  Loo.  I  felt  all 
the  time  as  though  I  had  hold  of  the  rope  that 
was  going  to  hang  him.  When  we  came  back 
he  and  the  sheriff  were  standing  on  the  por 
tico,  waiting.  Rad  appeared  to  be  more  com 
posed  than  any  of  us,  but  as  I  wrung  his  hand 
I  noticed  that  it  was  icy  cold. 

"I  '11  attend  to  everything,"  I  said,  "and 
don't  worry,  my  boy.  We  '11  get  you  off." 

"Don't  worry!"  He  laughed  shortly  as  he 
leaped  into  the  saddle.  "It 's  not  myself  I  'm 
worrying  over;  I  am  innocent,"  and  he  sud 
denly  leaned  forward  and  scanned  my  face  in 
the  light  from  the  open  door.  "You  believe 
me?"  he  asked  quickly. 

"Yes,"  I  cried,  "I  do!  And  what  's  more, 
I  '11  prove  you  're  innocent." 

D50] 


CHAPTER  XII 

I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

THE  next  few  days  were  a  nightmare 
to  me.    Even  now  I  cannot  think  of 
that  horrible  period  of  suspense  and 
doubt  without  a  shudder.    The  coroner  set  to 
work  immediately  upon  his  preliminary  inves 
tigation,  and  every  bit  of  evidence  that  turned 
up  only  seemed  to  make  the  proof  stronger 
against  Radnor. 

It  is  strange  how  ready  public  opinion  is  to 
believe  the  worst  of  a  man  when  he  is  down. 
No  one  appeared  to  doubt  Rad's  guilt,  and 
feeling  ran  high  against  him.  Colonel  Gay- 
lord  was  a  well-known  character  in  the  coun 
try-side,  and  in  spite  of  his  quick  temper  and 
rather  imperious  bearing  he  had  been  a  gen 
eral  favorite.  At  the  newf  of  his  death  a  wave 
of  horror  and  indignation  swept  through  the 
valley.  Among  the  roughs  in  the  village  I 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

heard  not  infrequent  hints  of  lynching;  and 
even  among  the  more  conservative  element, 
the  general  opinion  seemed  to  be  that  lawful 
hanging  was  too  honorable  a  death  for  the 
perpetrator  of  so  brutal  a  crime. 

I  have  never  been  able  to  understand  the 
quick  and  general  belief  in  the  boy's  guilt,  but 
I  have  always  suspected  that  the  sheriff  did 
not  do  all  in  his  power  to  quiet  the  feeling.  It 
was  to  a  large  extent,  however,  the  past  re 
asserting  itself.  Though  Radnor's  record 
was  not  so  black  as  it  was  painted,  still,  it  was 
not  so  white  as  it  should  have  been.  People 
shook  their  heads  and  repeated  stories  of  how 
wild  he  had  been  as  a  boy,  and  how  they  had 
always  foreseen  some  such  end  as  this.  Re 
ports  of  the  quarrels  with  his  father  were  told 
and  retold  until  they  were  magnified  beyond 
all  recognition.  The  old  scandals  about  Jeff 
were  revived  again,  and  the  general  opinion 
seemed  to  be  that  the  Gaylord  boys  were  de 
generates  through  and  through.  Rad's  per 
sonal  friends  stood  by  him  staunchly ;  but  they 
formed  a  pitifully  small  minority  compared  to 
the  general  sensation-seeking  public. 

[152] 


I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

I  visited  Radnor  in  the  Kennisburg  jail  on 
the  morning  of  my  uncle's  funeral  and  found 
him  quite  broken  in  spirit.  He  had  had  time 
to  think  over  the  past,  and  with  his  father  ly 
ing  dead  at  Four-Pools,  it  had  not  been  pleas 
ant  thinking.  Now  that  it  was  too  late,  he 
seemed  filled  with  remorse  over  his  conduct 
toward  the  old  man,  and  he  dwelt  continually 
on  the  fact  of  his  having  been  unwilling  to 
make  up  the  quarrel  of  the  night  before  the 
murder.  In  this  mood  of  contrition  he  merci 
lessly  accused  himself  of  things  I  am  sure  he 
had  never  done.  I  knew  that  the  jailer  was 
listening  to  every  word  outside,  and  I  became 
unspeakably  nervous  for  fear  he  would  say 
something  which  could  be  twisted  into  an  in 
criminating  confession.  He  did  not  seem  to 
comprehend  in  the  least  the  danger  of  his  own 
position;  he  was  entirely  taken  up  with  the 
horror  of  his  father's  death.  As  I  was  leav 
ing,  however,  he  suddenly  grasped  my  hand 
with  tears  in  his  eyes.  t 

'  Tell  me,  Arnold,  do  people  really  believe 
me  guilty?" 

I  knew  by  "people"  he  meant  Polly  Math- 

Cut] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

ers;  but  I  had  not  had  an  opportunity  to 
speak  with  her  alone  since  the  day  of  the 
tragedy. 

"I  have  n't  talked  to  anyone  but  the 
sheriff,"  I  returned. 

"Mattison  would  be  glad  enough  to  prove 
it,"  Radnor  said  bitterly,  and  he  turned  his 
back  and  stood  staring  through  the  iron  bars 
of  the  window,  while  I  went  out  and  the 
jailer  closed  the  door  and  locked  it. 

All  through  the  funeral  that  afternoon  I 
could  scarcely  keep  my  eyes  from  Polly  Ma- 
thers's  face.  She  appeared  so  changed  since  the 
day  of  the  picnic  that  I  should  scarcely  have 
known  her  for  the  same  person;  it  seemed 
incredible  that  three  days  could  make  such  a 
difference  in  a  bright,  healthy,  vigorous  girl. 
All  her  youthful  vivacity  was  gone;  she  was 
pale  and  spiritless  with  deep  rings  beneath  her 
eyes  and  the  lids  red  with  crying.  After  the 
services  were  over,  I  approached  her  a  mo 
ment  as  she  stood  in  her  black  dress  aloof 
from  the  others  at  the  edge  of  the  little  family 
burying-ground.  She  greeted  me  with  a 
tremulous  smile,  and  then  as  her  glance  wan- 


I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

dered  back  to  the  pile  of  earth  that  two  men 
were  already  shoveling  into  the  grave,  her 
eyes  quickly  filled  with  tears. 

"I  loved  him  as  much  as  if  he  were  my  own 
father,"  she  cried,  "and  it 's  my  fault  that  he  's 
dead.  I  made  him  go!" 

"No,  Polly,  it  is  not  your  fault,"  I  said  de 
cisively.  "It  was  a  thing  which  no  one  could 
foresee  and  no  one  could  help." 

She  waited  a  moment  trying  to  steady  her 
voice,  then  she  looked  up  pleadingly  in  my 
face. 

"Radnor  is  innocent;  tell  me  you  believe  it." 

"I  am  sure  he  is  innocent,"  I  replied. 

"Then  you  can  clear  him — you  're  a  law 
yer.  I  know  you  can  clear  him!" 

"You  may  trust  me  to  do  my  best,  Polly." 

"I  hate  Jim  Mattison!"  she  exclaimed,  with 
a  flash  of  her  old  fire.  "He  swears  that  Rad 
is  guilty  and  that  he  will  prove  him  so.  Rad 
may  have  done  some  bad\hings,  but  he  's  a 
good  man — better  than  Jim  Mattison  ever 
thought  of  being." 

"Polly,"  I  said  with  a  touch  of  bitterness, 
"I  wish  you  might  have  realized  that  truth 

[155] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

earlier.  Rad  is  at  heart  as  splendid  a  chap  as 
ever  lived,  and  his  friends  ought  never  to  have 
allowed  him  to  go  astray." 

She  looked  away  without  answering,  and 
then  in  a  moment  turned  back  to  me  and  held 
out  her  hand. 

"Good-by.  When  you  see  him  again  please 
tell  him  what  I  said." 

As  she  turned  away  I  looked  after  her,  puz 
zled.  I  was  sure  at  last  that  she  was  in  love 
with  Radnor,  and  I  was  equally  sure  that  he 
did  not  know  it;  for  in  spite  of  his  sorrow  at 
his  father's  death  and  of  the  suspicion  that 
rested  on  him,  I  knew  that  he  would  not  have 
been  so  completely  crushed  had  he  felt  that 
she  was  with  him.  Why  must  this  come  to 
him  now  too  late  to  do  him  any  good,  when  he 
had  needed  it  so  much  before  ?  I  felt  momen 
tarily  enraged  at  Polly.  It  seemed  somehow 
as  if  the  trouble  might  have  been  avoided  had 
she  been  more  straightforward.  Then  at  the 
memory  of  her  pale  face  and  pleading  eyes  I 
relented.  However  thoughtless  she  had  been 
before,  she  was  changed  now;  this  tragedy 
had  somehow  made  a  woman  of  her  over 


I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

night.  When  Radnor  came  at  last  to  claim 
her,  they  would  each,  perhaps,  be  worthier  of 
the  other. 

I  returned  to  the  empty  house  that  night 
and  sat  down  to  look  the  facts  squarely  in  the 
face.  I  had  hitherto  been  so  occupied  with 
the  necessary  preparations  for  the  funeral, 
and  with  instituting  a  search  for  Cat-Eye 
Mose,  that  I  had  scarcely  had  time  to  think,  let 
alone  map  out  any  logical  plan  of  action. 
Radnor  was  so  stunned  by  the  blow  that  he 
could  barely  talk  coherently,  and  as  yet  I  had 
had  no  satisfactory  interview  with  him. 

Immediately  after  the  Colonel's  death,  I 
had  very  hastily  run  over  his  private  papers, 
but  had  found  little  to  suggest  a  clue. 
Among  some  old  letters  were  several  from 
Nannie's  husband,  written  at  the  time  of  her 
sickness  and  death;  their  tone  was  bitter. 
Could  the  man  have  accomplished  a  tardy  re 
venge  for  past  insults  ?  I  asked  myself.  But 
investigation  showed  this  theory  to  be  most 
untenable.  He  was  still  living  in  the  little 
Kansas  village  where  she  had  died,  had  mar 
ried  again,  and  become  a  peaceful  plodding 

C157] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

citizen.  It  required  all  his  present  energy  to 
support  his  wife  and  children — I  dare  say  the 
brief  episode  of  his  first  marriage  had  almost 
faded  from  his  mind.  There  was  not  the 
slightest  chance  that  he  could  be  implicated. 

I  sifted  the  papers  again,  thoroughly  and 
painstakingly,  but  found  nothing  that  would 
throw  any  light  upon  the  mystery.  While  I  was 
still  engaged  with  this  task,  a  message  came 
from  the  coroner  saying  that  the  formal  in 
quest  would  begin  at  ten  o'clock  the  next 
morning  in  the  Kennisburg  court-house.  This 
gave  me  no  chance  to  plan  any  sort  of  cam 
paign,  and  I  could  do  little  more  than  let  mat 
ters  take  their  course.  I  hoped  however  that 
in  the  progress  of  the  inquest,  some  clue 
would  be  brought  to  light  which  would  render 
Radnor's  being  remanded  for  trial  impossible. 

So  far,  I  had  to  acknowledge,  the  evidence 
against  him  appeared  overwhelming.  A  mo 
tive  was  supplied  in  the  fact  that  the  Colonel's 
death  would  leave  him  his  own  master  and  a 
rich  man.  The  well-known  fact  of  their  fre 
quent  quarrels,  coupled  with  Radnor's  fierce 
temper  and  somewhat  revengeful  disposition, 


I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

was  a  very  strong  point  in  his  disfavor; 
added  to  this,  the  suspicious  circumstances 
of  the  day  of  the  tragedy — the  fact  that  he 
was  not  with  the  rest  of  the  party  when  the 
crime  must  have  been  committed,  the  alleged 
print  of  his  boots  and  the  finding  of  the  match 
box,  his  subsequent  perturbed  condition— 
everything  pointed  to  him  as  the  author  of  the 
crime.  It  was  a  most  convincing  chain  of  cir 
cumstantial  evidence. 

Considering  the  data  that  had  come  to 
light,  there  seemed  to  be  only  one  alternative, 
and  that  was  that  Cat-Eye  Mose  had  com 
mitted  the  murder.  I  clung  tenaciously  to  this 
belief ;  but  I  found,  in  the  absence  of  any  fur 
ther  proof  or  any  conceivable  motive,  that  few 
people  shared  it  with  me.  The  marks  of  his 
bare  feet  proved  conclusively  that  he  had 
been,  in  whatever  capacity,  an  active  partici 
pator  in  the  struggle. 

"He  was  there  to  aid  his  master,"  the  sher 
iff  affirmed,  "and  being  a  witness  to  the  crime, 
it  was  necessary  to  put  him  out  of  the  way." 

"Why  hide  the  body  of  one  and  not  the 
other?"  I  asked. 

[159] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"To  throw  suspicion  on  Mose." 

This  was  the  universal  opinion;  no  one, 
from  the  beginning,  would  listen  to  a  word 
against  Mose.  In  his  case,  as  well  as  in  Rad 
nor's,  the  past  was  speaking.  Through 
all  his  life,  they  said,  he  had  faithfully 
loved  and  served  the  Colonel,  and  if  necessity 
required,  he  would  willingly  have  died  for 
him. 

But  for  myself,  I  continued  to  believe  in 
the  face  of  all  opposition,  that  Mose  was 
guilty.  It  was  more  a  matter  of  feeling  with 
me  than  of  reasoning.  I  had  always  been  sus 
picious  of  the  fellow;  a  man  with  eyes  like 
that  was  capable  of  anything.  The  objection 
which  the  sheriff  raised  that  Colonel  Gaylord 
was  both  larger  and  stronger  than  Mose  and 
could  easily  have  overcome  him,  proved  noth 
ing  to  my  mind.  Mose  was  a  small  man,  but 
he  was  long-armed  and  wirey,  doubtless  far 
stronger  than  he  looked;  besides,  he  had 
been  armed,  and  the  nature  of  his  weapon  was 
clear.  The  floor  of  the  cave  was  strewn  with 
scores  of  broken  stalactites;  nothing  could 
have  made  a  more  formidable  weapon  than 


I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

one  of  these  long  pieces  of  jagged  stone  used 
as  a  club. 

As  to  the  motive  for  the  crime,  who  could 
tell  what  went  on  in  the  slow  workings  of  his 
mind  ?  The  Colonel  had  struck  him  more  than 
once — unjustly,  I  did  not  doubt — and  though 
he  seemed  at  the  moment  to  take  it  meekly, 
might  he  not  have  been  merely  biding  his 
time?  His  final  revenge  may  have  been  the 
outcome  of  many  hoarded  grievances  that  no 
one  knew  existed.  The  fellow  was  more  than 
half  insane.  What  more  likely  than  that  he 
had  attacked  his  master  in  a  fit  of  animal  pas 
sion  ;  and  then,  terrified  at  the  result,  escaped 
to  the  woods?  That  seemed  to  me  the  only 
plausible  explanation. 

No  facts  had  come  out  concerning  the  ha'nt 
or  the  robbery,  and  I  do  not  think  that  either 
was  connected  in  the  public  mind  with  the 
murder.  But  to  my  mind  the  death  of  Colo 
nel  Gaylord  was  but  the  climax  of  the  long 
series  of  events  which  commenced  on  the  night 
of  my  arrival  with  the  slight  and  ludicrous  ep 
isode  of  the  stolen  roast  chicken.  I  had  been 
convinced  at  the  time  that  Mose  was  at  the 

[161 3 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

bottom  of  it,  and  I  was  convinced  now  that  he 
was  also  at  the  bottom  of  the  robbery  and  the 
murder.  How  Radnor  had  got  drawn  into 
the  muddle  of  the  ha'nt,  I  could  not  fathom; 
but  I  suspected  that  Mose  had  hoodwinked 
him  as  he  had  the  rest  of  us. 

Assuming  that  my  theory  was  right,  then 
Mose  was  hiding;  and  all  my  energies  from 
the  beginning  had  been  bent  toward  his  dis 
covery.  The  low  range  of  mountains  which 
lay  between  Four-Pools  Plantation  and  the 
Luray  valley  was  covered  thickly  with  woods 
and  very  sparsely  settled.  Mose  knew  every 
foot  of  the  ground;  he  had  wandered  over 
these  mountains  for  days  at  a  time,  and  must 
have  been  familiar  with  many  hiding  places. 
It  was  in  this  region  that  I  hoped  to  find  him. 

Immediately  after  the  Colonel's  death  I 
had  offered  a  large  reward  either  for  Mose's 
capture,  or  for  any  information  regarding  his 
whereabouts.  His  description  had  been  tele 
graphed  all  up  and  down  the  valley  and  every 
farmer  was  on  the  alert.  Bands  of  men  had 
been  formed  and  the  woods  scoured  for  him, 
but  as  yet  without  result.  I  was  hourly  ex- 

C162] 


I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

pecting,  however,  that  some  clue  would  come 
to  light. 

The  sheriff,  on  the  other  hand,  in  pursu 
ance  of  his  theory  that  Mose  had  been  mur 
dered,  had  been  no  less  indefatigable  in  his 
search  for  the  body.  The  river  had  been 
dragged,  the  cave  and  surrounding  woods 
searched,  but  nothing  had  been  found.  Mose 
had  simply  vanished  from  the  earth  and  left 
no  trace. 

To  my  disappointment  the  morning  still 
brought  no  news;  I  had  hoped  to  have  some 
thing  definite  before  the  inquest  opened.  I 
rode  into  Kennisburg  early  in  order  to  hold 
a  conference  with  Radnor,  and  get  from  him 
the  facts  in  regard  to  his  own  and  Mose's  con 
nection  with  the  ha'nt.  My  former  passivity 
in  the  matter  struck  me  n$w  as  almost  crimi 
nal  ;  perhaps  had  I  insisted  in  probing  it  to  the 
bottom,  my  uncle  might  have  been  living  still. 
I  entered  Radnor's  cell  determined  not  to 
leave  it  until  I  knew  the  truth. 

But  I  met  with  an  unexpected  obstacle. 
He  refused  absolutely  to  discuss  the  question. 

"Radnor,"  I  cried  at  last,  "are  you  trying 

£163  3 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

to  shield  any  one?  Do  you  know  who  killed 
your  father?" 

"I  know  no  more  about  who  killed  my 
father  than  you  do." 

"Do  you  know  about  the  ha'nt?" 

"Yes,"  he  said  desperately,  "I  do;  but  it  is 
not  connected  with  either  the  robbery  or  the 
murder  and  I  cannot  talk  about  it." 

I  argued  and  pleaded  but  to  no  effect.  He 
sat  on  his  cot,  his  head  in  his  hands  staring  at 
the  floor,  stubbornly  refusing  to  open  his  lips. 
I  gave  over  pleading  and  stormed. 

"It  's  no  use,  Arnold,"  he  said  finally.  "I 
won't  tell  you  anything  about  the  ha'nt;  it 
does  n't  enter  into  the  case." 

I  sat  down  again  and  patiently  outlined  my 
theory  in  regard  to  Mose. 

"It  is  impossible,"  he  declared.  "I  have 
known  Mose  all  my  life,  and  I  have  never  yet 
known  him  to  betray  a  trust.  He  loved  my 
father  as  much  as  I  did,  and  if  my  life  de 
pended  on  it,  I  should  swear  that  he  was  faith 
ful." 

"Rad,"  I  beseeched,  "I  am  not  only  your 
attorney,  I  am  your  friend ;  whatever  you  say 

C164] 


I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

to  me  is  as  if  it  had  never  been  said.  I  must 
know  the  truth." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"I  have  nothing  to  say." 

"You  have  got  to  have  something  to  say,"  I 
cried.  "You  have  got  to  go  on  the  stand  and 
make  an  absolutely  open  and  straightforward 
statement  of  everything  bearing  on  the  case. 
You  have  got  to  appear  anxious  to  find  and 
punish  the  man  who  murdered  your  father. 
You  have  got  to  gain  public  sympathy,  and 
before  you  go  on  the  stand  you  owe  it  to  your 
self  and  me  to  leave  nothing  unexplained  be 
tween  us." 

He  raised  his  eyes  miserably  to  mine. 

"Must  I  go  on?"  he  asked.  "Can't  I  refuse 
to  testify — I  don't  see  that  they  can  punish 
me  for  contempt  of  court;  I  'm  already  in 
prison." 

"They  can  hang  you,"  said  I,  bluntly. 

He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  with  a 
groan. 

"Arnold,"  he  pleaded,  "don't  make  me  face 
all  those  people.  You  can  see  what  a  state  my 
nerves  are  in;  I  have  n't  slept  for  three 

ties] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

nights."  He  held  out  his  hand  to  show  me 
how  it  trembled.  "I  can't  talk — I  don't  know 
what  I  'm  saying.  You  don't  know  what 
you  're  urging  me  to  do." 

My  anger  at  his  stubbornness  vanished  in  a 
sudden  spasm  of  pity.  The  poor  fellow  was 
scarcely  more  than  a  boy!  Though  I  was 
completely  in  the  dark  as  to  what  he  was 
holding  back  and  why  he  was  doing  it,  yet 
I  felt  instinctively  that  his  motives  were 
honorable. 

"Rad,"  I  said,  "it  would  help  your  cause  to 
be  open  with  me,  and  if  you  are  remanded  for 
trial  before  the  grand  jury  you  must  in  the 
end  tell  me  everything.  But  now  I  will  not 
insist.  Probably  nothing  will  come  up  about 
the  ha'nt.  I  can  of  course  refuse  to  let  you 
speak  on  the  ground  of  incriminating  evi 
dence,  but  that  is  the  last  stand  I  wish  to 
take.  We  must  gain  public  opinion  on  our 
side  and  to  that  end  you  must  testify  yourself. 
You  must  force  every  person  present  to  be 
lieve  that  you  are  incapable  of  telling  a  false 
hood— I  believe  that  already  and  so  does  Polly 
Mathers." 

C1663 


I  MAKE  A  PROMISE  TO  POLLY 

Radnor's  face  flushed  and  a  quick  light 
sprang  into  his  eyes. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

I  repeated  what  Polly  had  said  and  I  added 
my  own  interpretation.  The  effect  was  elec 
trical.  He  straightened  his  shoulders  with  an 
air  of  trying  to  throw  off  his  despondency. 

"I  '11  do  my  best,"  he  promised.  "Heaven 
knows  I  'd  like  to  know  the  truth  as  well  as 
you — this  doubt  is  simply  hell!" 

A  knock  sounded  on  the  door  and  a  sher 
iff's  officer  informed  us  that  the  hearing  was 
about  to  begin. 

"You  have  n't  explained  your  actions  on 
the  day  of  the  murder,"  I  said  hurriedly.  "I 
must  have  a  reason." 

"That 's  all  right — it  wnl  come  out.  If  you 
just  keep  'em  off  the  ha'nt,  I  '11  clear  every 
thing  else." 

"If  you  do  that,"  said  I,  immeasurably  re 
lieved,  "there  '11  be  no  danger  of  your  being 
held  for  trial."  I  rose  and  held  out  my  hand. 
"Courage,  my  boy;  remember  that  you  are 
going  to  prove  your  innocence,  not  only  for 
your  own,  but  for  Polly's  sake." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  INQUEST 

THE  coroner's  court  was  packed;  and 
though  here  and  there  I  caught  a  face 
that  I  knew  to  be  friendly  to  Radnor, 
the  crowd  was  made  up  for  the  most  part  of 
morbid  sensation  seekers,  eager  to  hear  and 
believe  the  worst. 

The  District  Attorney  was  present ;  indeed 
he  and  the  coroner  and  Jim  Mattison  were 
holding  a  whispered  consultation  when  I  en 
tered  the  room,  and  I  did  not  doubt  but  that 
the  three  had  been  working  up  the  case  to 
gether.  The  thought  was  not  reassuring;  a 
coroner,  with  every  appearance  of  fairness, 
may  still  bias  a  jury  by  the  form  his  questions 
take.  And  I  myself  was  scarcely  in  a  posi 
tion  to  turn  the  trend  of  the  inquiry ;  I  doubt 
if  a  lawyer  ever  went  to  an  inquisition  with 
less  command  of  the  facts  than  I  had. 

The  first  witness  called  was  the  doctor  who 


THE  INQUEST 

made  the  autopsy.  After  his  testimony  had 
been  dwelt  upon  with  what  seemed  to  me 
needless  detail,  the  facts  relating  to  the  find 
ing  of  the  body  were  brought  forward.  From 
this,  the  investigation  veered  to  the  subject  of 
Radnor's  strange  behavior  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  murder.  The  landlord,  stable  boy  and 
several  hangers-on  of  the  Luray  Hotel  were 
called  to  the  stand ;  their  testimony  was  prac 
tically  identical,  and  I  did  not  attempt  to 
question  its  truth. 

"What  time  did  Radnor  Gaylord  come 
back  to  the  hotel?"  the  coroner  asked  of  "old 
man  Tompkins,"  the  landlord. 

"I  reckon  it  must  'a'  been  'long  about  three 
in  the  afternoon." 

"Please  describe  exactly  what  occurred." 

"Well,  we  was  sittin'  on  the  veranda  talkin' 
about  one  thing  and  another  when  we  see 
young  Gaylord  comin'  across  the  lot,  his  head 
down  and  his  hands  in  his  pockets  walkin' 
fast.  He  yelled  to  Jake,  who  was  washin'  off 
a  buggy  at  the  pump,  to  saddle  his  horse  and 
be  quick  about  it.  Then  he  come  up  the  steps 
and  into  the  bar-room  and  called  for  brandy. 

C169] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

He  drunk  two  glasses  straight  off  without 
blinkin'." 

"Had  he  ordered  anything  to  drink  in  the 
morning  when  they  left  their  horses?"  the 
coroner  interrupted  at  this  point. 

"No,  he  did  n't  go  into  the  bar-room — and 
it  was  n't  usually  his  custom  to  slight  us 
either." 

A  titter  ran  around  the  room  and  the  coro 
ner  rapped  for  order.  "This  is  not  the  place 
for  any  cheap  witticisms ;  you  will  kindly  con 
fine  yourself  to  answering  my  questions.— 
Did  Mr.  Gaylord  appear  to  have  been  drink 
ing  when  he  returned  from  the  cave?" 

The  landlord  closed  his  right  eye  specula- 
tively.  "No,  I  can't  say  as  he  exactly  ap 
peared  like  he  'd  been  drinking,"  he  said  with 
the  air  of  a  connoisseur,  "but  he  did  seem  to 
be  considerably  upset  about  something.  He 
looked  mad  enough  to  bite ;  his  face  was  pale, 
and  his  hand  trembled  when  he  raised  his 
glass.  Three  or  four  noticed  it  and  won 
dered-" 

"Very  well,"  interrupted  the  coroner, 
"what  did  he  do  next?" 

[170  3 


THE  INQUEST 

"He  went  out  to  the  stable  yard  and  swore 
at  the  boy  for  being  slow.  And  he  tightened 
the  surcingle  himself  with  such  a  jerk  that  the 
mare  plunged  and  he  struck  her.  He  is  usu 
ally  pretty  cranky  about  the  way  horses  is 
treated,  and  we  wondered— 

He  was  stopped  again  and  invited  to  go  on 
without  wondering. 

"Well,  let  me  see,"  said  the  witness,  imper- 
turbably.  "He  jumped  into  the  saddle  and 
slashing  the  mare  across  the  flanks,  started  off 
in  a  cloud  o'  dust,  without  so  much  as  looking 
back.  We  was  all  surprised  at  this  'cause  he  's 
usually  pretty  friendly,  and  we  talked  about 
it  after ;  but  we  did  n't  think  nothing  particu 
lar  till  the  news  o'  the  muraer  come  that  even 
ing,  when  we  naturally  commenced  to  put  two 
and  two  together." 

At  this  point  I  protested  and  the  landlord 
was  excused.  "Jake"  Henley,  the  stable  boy, 
was  called.  His  testimony  practically  cov 
ered  the  same  ground  and  corroborated  what 
the  landlord  had  said. 

"You  say  he  swore  at  you  for  being  slow?" 
the  coroner  asked. 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Jake  nodded  with  a  grin.  "I  don't  remem 
ber  just  the  words — I  get  swore  at  so  much 
that  it  don't  make  the  impression  it  might— 
but  it  was  good  straight  cussin'  all  right." 

"And  he  struck  you  as  being  agitated?" 

Jake's  grin  broadened.  "I  think  you  might 
say  agitated,"  he  admitted  guardedly.  "He 
was  mad  enough  to  begin  with,  an'  now  the 
brandy  was  gettin'  to  work.  Besides,  he  was 
in  an  all-fired  hurry  to  leave  before  the  rest  o' 
the  party  come  back,  an'  while  I  was  bringin' 
out  the  horse,  he  heard  'em  laughin'.  They 
was  n't  in  sight  yet,  but  they  was  makin'  a  lot 
o'  noise.  One  o'  the  girls  had  stepped  on  a 
snake  an'  was  squealin'  loud  enough  to  hear 
her  two  miles  off." 

"And  Gaylord  left  before  any  of  them  saw 
him?" 

The  boy  nodded.  "He  got  off  all  right. 
'You  forgot  to  pay  for  your  horse,'  I  yelled 
after  him,  and  he  threw  me  fifty  cents  and  it 
landed  in  the  watering-trough." 

This  ended  his  testimony. 

Several  members  of  the  picnic  party  were 
next  called  upon,  and  nothing  very  damaging 

C172] 


THE  INQUEST 

to  Radnor  was  produced.  He  seemed  to  be 
in  his  usual  spirits  before  entering  the  cave, 
and  no  one,  it  transpired,  had  seen  him  after 
he  came  out,  though  this  was  not  noted  at  the 
time.  Also,  no  one  had  noticed  him  in  conver 
sation  with  his  father.  The  coroner  dwelt 
upon  this  point,  but  elicited  no  information 
one  way  or  the  other. 

Polly  Mathers  was  not  present.  She  had 
been  subpoenaed,  but  had  become  too  ill  and 
nervous  to  stand  the  strain,  and  the  doctor  had 
forbidden  her  attendance.  The  coroner,  how 
ever,  had  taken  her  testimony  at  the  house,  and 
his  clerk  read  it  aloud  to  the  jury.  It  dealt 
merely  with  the  matter  oflthe  coat  and  where 
she  had  last  seen  Radnor. 

"Question.  'Did  you  notice  anything  pecu 
liar  in  the  behavior  of  Radnor  Gaylord  on  the 
day  of  his  father's  death?' 

"Answer.  'Nothing  especially  peculiar- 
no.' 

ffQ.  'Did  you  see  any  circumstance  which 
led  you  to  suspect  that  he  and  his  father  were 
not  on  good  terms?' 

"A.  'No,  they  both  appeared  as  usual.' 

[173] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Q.  'Did  you  speak  to  Radnor  in  the  cave?' 

"A.  'Yes,  we  strolled  about  together  for  a 
time  and  he  was  carrying  my  coat.  He  laid 
it  down  on  the  broken  column  and  forgot  it.- 
I  forgot  it  too  and  did  n't  think  of  it  again 
until  we  were  out  of  the  cave.  Then  I  hap 
pened  to  mention  it  in  Colonel  Gaylord's  pres 
ence,  and  I  suppose  he  went  back  for  it.' 

"Q.  'You  did  n't  see  Radnor  Gaylord  after 
he  left  the  cave?' 

"A.  'No,  I  did  n't  see  him  after  we  left  the 
gallery  of  the  broken  column.  The  guide 
struck  off  a  calcium  light  to  show  us  the  for 
mation  of  the  ceiling.  We  spent  about  five 
minutes  examining  the  room,  and  after  that 
we  all  went  on  in  a  group.  Radnor  had  not 
waited  to  see  the  room,  but  had  gone  on  ahead 
in  the  direction  of  the  entrance.' ' 

So  much  for  Polly's  testimony — which 
added  nothing. 

Solomon,  frightened  almost  out  of  his  wits, 
was  called  on  next,  and  his  testimony  brought 
out  the  matter  of  the  quarrel  between  Col 
onel  Gaylord  and  Radnor.  Solomon  told  of 
finding  the  French  clock,  and  a  great  many 


THE  INQUEST 

things  besides  which  I  am  sure  he  made  up. 
I  wished  to  have  his  testimony  ruled  out,  but 
the  coroner  seemed  to  feel  that  it  was  sug 
gestive — as  it  undoubtedly  was — and  he  al 
lowed  it  to  remain. 

Radnor  himself  was  next  called  to  the  stand. 
As  he  took  his  place  a  murmur  of  excitement 
swept  over  the  room  and  there  was  a  general 
straining  forward.  He  was  composed  and 
quiet,  and  very  very  sober— every  bit  of  ani 
mation  had  left  his  face. 

The  coroner  commenced  immediately  with 
the  subject  of  the  quarrel  with  his  father  on 
the  night  before  the  mulier,  and  Radnor 
answered  all  the  questions  frankly  and  openly. 
He  made  no  attempt  to  gloss  over  any  of  the 
details.  What  put  the  matter  in  a  peculiarly 
bad  light,  was  the  fact  that  the  cause  of  the 
quarrel  had  been  over  a  question  of  money. 
Rad  had  requested  his  father  to  settle  a  defi 
nite  amount  on  him  so  that  he  would  be  inde 
pendent  in  the  future,  and  his  father  had  re 
fused.  They  had  lost  their  tempers  and  had 
gone  further  than  usual;  in  telling  the  story 
Radnor  openly  took  the  blame  upon  himself 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

where,  in  several  instances,  I  strongly  sus 
pected  that  it  should  have  been  laid  at  the  door 
of  the  Colonel.  But  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
the  story  revealed  a  pitiable  state  of  affairs  as 
between  father  and  son,  his  frankness  in  as 
suming  the  responsibility  won  for  him  more 
sympathy  than  had  been  shown  since  the 
murder. 

"How  did  the  clock  get  broken?"  the  cor 
oner  asked. 

"My  father  knocked  it  off  the  mantelpiece 
onto  the  floor." 

"He  did  not  throw  it  at  you  as  Solomon 
surmised?" 

Radnor  raised  his  head  with  a  glint  of 
anger. 

"It  fell  on  the  floor  and  broke." 

"Have  you  often  had  quarrels  with  your 
father?" 

"Occasionally.  He  had  a  quick  temper  and 
always  wished  his  own  way,  and  I  was  not  so 
patient  with  him  as  I  should  have  been." 

"What  did  you  quarrel  about?" 

"Different  things." 

"What,  for  instance?" 

[176] 


THE  INQUEST 

"Sometimes  because  he  thought  I  spent  too 
much  money,  sometimes  over  a  question  of 
managing  the  estate;  occasionally  because  he 
had  heard  gossip  about  me." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  'gossip'?" 

"Stories  that  I  'd  been  gambling  or  drink 
ing  too  much." 

"Were  the  stories  true?" 

"They  were  always  exaggerated." 

"And  this  quarrel  the  night  before  his  death 
was  more  serious  than  usual?" 

"Possibly— yes." 

"You  did  not  speak  to^each  other  at  the 
breakfast  table?" 

"No." 

Radnor's  face  was  set  in  strained  lines;  it 
was  evident  that  this  was  a  very  painful  sub 
ject. 

"Did  you  have  any  conversation  later?" 

"Only  a  few  words." 

"Please  repeat  what  was  said." 

Radnor  appeared  to  hesitate  and  then  re 
plied  a  trifle  wearily  that  he  did  not  remember 
the  exact  words ;  that  it  was  merely  a  recapit 
ulation  of  what  had  been  said  the  night  before. 
12 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Upon  being  urged  to  give  the  gist  of  the  con 
versation  he  replied  that  his  father  had  wished 
to  make  up  their  quarrel,  but  on  the  old  basis, 
and  he  had  refused.  The  Colonel  had  re 
peated  that  he  was  still  too  young  a  man  to 
give  over  his  affairs  into  the  hands  of  another, 
—that  he  had  a  good  many  years  before  him 
in  which  he  intended  to  be  his  own  master. 
Radnor  had  replied  that  he  was  too  old  a  man 
to  be  treated  any  longer  as  a  boy,  and  that  he 
would  go  away  and  work  where  he  would  be 
paid  for  what  he  did. 

"And  may  I  ask,"  the  coroner  inquired 
placidly,  "whether  you  had  any  particular 
work  in  mind  when  you  made  that  statement, 
or  was  it  merely  a  figure  of  rhetoric  calculated 
to  bring  Colonel  Gaylord  to  terms?" 

Rad  scowled  and  said  nothing,  and  the  rest 
of  his  answers  were  terseness  itself. 

"Did  you  and  your  father  have  any  further 
conversation  on  the  ride  over,  or  in  the  course 
of  the  day?" 

"No." 

"You  purposely  avoided  meeting  each 
other?" 


THE  INQUEST 

"I  suppose  so." 

"Then  those  words  after  breakfast  when 
you  threatened  to  leave  home  were  abso 
lutely  the  last  words  you  ever  spoke  to  your 
father?" 

It  was  a  subject  Radnor  did  not  like  to 
think  about.  His  lips  trembled  slightly  and 
he  answered  with  a  visible  effort. 

"Yes." 

A  slight  murmur  ran  around  the  room, 
partly  of  sympathy,  partly  of  doubt. 

The  coroner  put  the  s£me  question  again 
and  Radnor  repeated  his  answer,  this  time 
with  a  flush  of  anger.  The  coroner  paused  a 
moment  and  then  continued  without  com 
ment: 

"You  entered  the  cave  with  the  rest  of  the 
party?" 

"Yes." 

"But  you  left  the  others  before  they  had 
made  the  complete  round?" 

"Yes." 

"Why  was  that?" 

"I  was  not  particularly  interested.  I  had 
seen  the  cave  many  times  before." 

P793 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY? 

"Where  did  you  leave  the  party?" 

"I  believe  in  the  gallery  of  the  broken  col 
umn." 

"You  left  the  cave  immediately?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  enter  it  again?" 

"No." 

"You  forgot  Miss  Mathers's  coat  and  left  it 
in  the  gallery  of  the  broken  column?" 

"So  it  would  seem." 

"Did  you  not  think  of  that  later  and  go 
back  for  it?" 

Radnor  snapped  out  his  answer.  "No,  I 
did  n't  think  anything  about  the  coat." 

"Are  you  in  the  habit  of  leaving  young  la 
dies'  coats  about  in  that  off-hand  way?" 

A  titter  ran  about  the  room,  and  Rad  did 
not  deign  to  notice  this  question. 

I  was  indignant  that  the  boy  should  be  made 
to  face  such  an  ordeal.  This  was  not  a  regu 
lar  trial  and  the  coroner  had  no  right  to  be 
more  obnoxious  than  his  calling  required. 
There  was  a  glint  of  anger  in  Radnor's  eyes ; 
and  I  was  uneasily  aware  that  he  no  longer 
cared  what  impression  he  made.  His  answers 


THE  INQUEST 

to  the  rest  of  the  questions  were  as  short  as  the 
English  language  permitted. 

"What  did  you  do  after  leaving  the  cave?" 

"Went  home." 

"Please  go  into  more  detail.  What  did  you 
do  immediately  after  leaving  the  cave?" 

"Strolled  through  the  woods." 

"For  how  long?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"How  long  do  you  think?" 

"Possibly  half  an  hour." 

"Then  what  did  you  doP 

"Returned  to  the  hotel,  ordered  my  horse 
and  rode  home." 

"Why  did  you  not  wait  for  the  rest  of  the 
party?" 

"Did  n't  feel  like  it." 

The  question  was  repeated  in  several  ways, 
but  Radnor  stubbornly  refused  to  discuss  the 
matter.  He  had  promised  me,  the  last  thing 
before  coming  to  the  hearing,  that  he  would 
clear  up  the  suspicious  points  in  regard  to  his 
conduct  on  the  day  of  the  crime.  I  took  him 
in  hand  myself,  but  I  could  get  nothing  more 
from  him  than  the  coroner  had  elicited.  For 

C181] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

some  reason  he  had  veered  completely,  and  his 
manner  warned  me  not  to  push  the  matter.  I 
took  my  seat  and  the  questioning  continued. 

"Mr.  Gaylord,"  said  the  coroner,  severely, 
"you  have  heard  the  evidence  respecting  your 
peculiar  behavior  when  you  returned  to  the 
hotel.  Three  witnesses  have  stated  that  you 
were  in  an  unnaturally  perturbed  condition. 
Is  this  true?" 

Radnor  supposed  it  must  be  true.  He  did 
not  wish  to  question  the  gentlemen's  veracity. 
He  did  not  remember  himself  what  he  had 
done,  but  there  seemed  to  be  plenty  of  wit 
nesses  who  did  remember. 

"Can  you  give  any  reasons  for  your  strange 
conduct?" 

"I  have  told  you  several  times  already  that 
I  can  not.  I  did  not  feel  well,  and  that  is  all 
there  was  to  it." 

A  low  murmur  of  incredulity  ran  around 
the  room.  It  was  evident  to  everyone  that  he 
was  holding  something  back,  and  I  could  see 
that  he  was  fast  losing  the  sympathy  he  had 
gained  in  the  beginning.  I  myself  was  at  a 
loss  to  account  for  his  behavior;  as  I  was  ab- 

[182  3 


THE  INQUEST 

solutely  in  the  dark,  however,  I  could  do  noth 
ing  but  let  matters  take  their  course.  Rad 
nor  was  excused  with  this,  and  the  next  half 
hour  was  spent  in  a  consideration  of  the  foot 
prints  that  were  found  in  the  clay  path  at  the 
scene  of  the  murder.  The  marks  of  Cat-Eye 
Mose  were  admitted  immediately,  but  the 
others  occasioned  considerable  discussion. 
Facsimiles  of  the  prints  were  produced  and 
compared  with  the  riding  boots  which  the  Col 
onel  and  Radnor  had  worn  at  the  time.  The 
Colonel's  print  was  unmistakable,  but  I  my 
self  did  not  think  that  the  alleged  print  of 
Radnor's  boot  tallied  very  perfectly  with  the 
boot  itself.  The  jury  seemed  satisfied  how 
ever,  and  Radnor  was  called  upon  for  an  ex 
planation.  His  only  conjecture  was  that  it 
was  the  print  he  had  left  when  he  passed  over 
the  path  on  his  way1  to  the  entrance. 

The  print  was  not  in  the  path,  he  was  in 
formed  ;  it  was  in  the  wet  clay  on  the  edge  of 
the  precipice. 

Radnor  shrugged.  In  that  case  it  could 
not  be  the  print  of  his  boot.  He  had  kept  to 
the  path. 

C188] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

In  regard  to  the  match  box  he  was  equally 
unsatisfactory.  He  acknowledged  that  it 
was  his,  but  could  no  more  account  for  its 
presence  in  the  path  than  the  coroner  himself. 

"When  do  you  remember  having  seen  it 
last?"  the  coroner  inquired. 

Radnor  pondered.  "I  remember  lending 
it  to  Mrs.  Mathers  when  she  was  building  a 
fire  in  the  woods  to  make  the  coffee ;  after  that 
I  don't  remember  anything  about  it." 

"How  do  you  account  for  its  presence  at 
the  scene  of  the  murder?" 

"I  can  only  conjecture  that  it  must  have 
dropped  from  my  pocket  without  my  noticing 
it  on  my  way  out  of  the  cave." 

The  coroner  observed  that  it  was  an  unfor 
tunate  coincidence  that  he  had  dropped  it  in 
just  that  particular  spot. 

This  effectually  stopped  Radnor's  testi 
mony.  Not  another  word  could  be  elicited 
from  him  on  the  subject,  and  he  was  finally 
dismissed  and  Mrs.  Mathers  called  to  the 
stand. 

She  remembered  borrowing  the  match  box, 
but  then  someone  had  called  her  away  and  she 

£184] 


THE  INQUEST 

could  not  remember  what  she  had  done  with  it. 
She  thought  she  must  have  returned  it  because 
she  always  did  return  things,  but  she  was  not 
at  all  sure.  Very  possibly  she  had  kept  it,  and 
dropped  it  herself  on  her  way  out  of  the  cave. 

It  was  evident  that  she  did  not  wish  to  say 
anything  which  would  incriminate  Radnor; 
and  she  was  really  too  perturbed  to  remember 
what  she  had  done.  Several  other  people 
were  questioned,  but  no  further  light  could  be 
thrown  on  the  subject  of  me  match  box;  and 
so  it  remained  in  the  end,  as  it  had  been  in  the 
beginning,  merely  a  very  nasty  piece  of  cir 
cumstantial  evidence. 

This  ended  the  hearing  for  the  day,  and  the 
inquest  was  postponed  until  ten  o'clock  the 
following  morning.  So  far,  no  word  had  been 
dropped  touching  the  ha'nt,  but  I  was  filled 
with  apprehension  as  to  what  the  next  day 
would  bring  forth.  I  knew  that  if  the  subject 
came  up,  it  would  end  once  for  all  Radnor's 
chances  of  escaping  trial  before  the  grand 
jury.  And  that  would  mean,  at  the  best,  two 
months  more  of  prison.  What  it  would  mean 
at  the  worst  I  did  not  like  to  consider. 

[185] 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  JURY'S  VERDICT 

MY  first  glance  about  the  room  the 
next  morning,  showed  me  only  too 
plainly  what  direction  the  inquiry 
was  going  to  take.    In  the  farther  corner  half 
hidden  by  Mattison's  broad  back  sat  Clancy, 
the  Washington  detective.    I  recognized  him 
with  an  angry  feeling  of  discouragement.    If 
we  were  to  have  his  version  of  the   stolen 
bonds,  Radnor's  last  hope  of  gaining  public 
sympathy  was  gone. 

Radnor  was  the  first  person  to  be  called  to 
the  stand.  He  had  not  noticed  the  detective, 
and  I  did  not  have  a  chance  to  inform  him  of 
his  presence.  The  coroner  plunged  immedi 
ately  into  the  question  of  the  robbery  and  the 
ha'nt,  and  it  was  only  too  evident  from  Rad 
nor's  troubled  eyes  that  it  was  a  subject  he  did 
not  wish  to  talk  about. 

"You  have  recently  had  a  robbery  at  your 
house,  Mr.  Gaylord?" 

[186  ] 


THE  JURY'S  VERDICT 

"Yes." 

"Please  describe  just  what  was  stolen." 

"Five  bonds — Government  four  per  cents 
—a  bag  of  coin — about  twenty  dollars  in  all— 
and  two  deeds  and  an  insurance  policy." 

"You  have  not  been  able  to  trace  the  thief?" 

"No." 

"In  spite  of  every  effort?" 

"Well,  we  naturally  looked  into  the  mat 
ter." 

"But  you  have  been  able  to  form  no  theory 
as  to  how  the  bonds  were  stolen?" 

"No,  I  have  no  theory  whatever." 

"You  employed  a  detective  I  believe?" 

"Yes." 

"And  he  arrived  at  no  theory?" 

Radnor  hesitated  visibly  while  he  framed 
an  answer. 

"He  arrived  at  no  theory  which  successfully 
covered  the  facts." 

"But  he  did  have  a  theory  as  to  the  where 
abouts  of  the  bonds,  did  he  not?" 

"Yes — but  it  was  without  any  foundation 
and  I  prefer  not  to  go  into  it." 

The  coroner  abandoned  the  point.     "Mr. 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Gaylord,  there  has  lately  been  a  rumor  among 
the  negroes  working  at  your  place,  in  regard 
to  the  appearance  of  a  ghost,  has  there  not?" 

"Yes." 

"Can  you  offer  any  light  on  the  subject?" 

"The  negroes  are  superstitious  and  easily 
frightened,  when  the  rumor  of  a  ghost  gets 
started  it  grows.  The  most  of  the  stories  ex 
isted  only  in  their  own  imaginations." 

"You  believe  then  that  there  was  no  foun 
dation  whatever  to  any  of  the  stories?" 

"I  should  rather  not  go  into  that." 

"Mr.  Gaylord,  do  you  believe  that  the  ghost 
had  any  connection  with  the  robbery?" 

"No,  I  do  not." 

"Do  you  think  that  the  ghost  had  any  con 
nection  with  the  murder  of  your  father?" 

"No!"  said  Radnor. 

"That  is  all,  Mr.  Gaylord.— James  Clan- 

cy." 

At  the  name  Radnor  suddenly  raised  his 
head  and  half  turned  back  as  if  to  speak,  but 
thinking  better  of  it,  he  resumed  his  chair  and 
watched  the  approach  of  the  detective  with  an 
angry  frown.  Clancy  did  not  glance  at  Rad- 

£188] 


THE  JURY'S  VERDICT 

nor,  but  gave  his  evidence  in  a  quick  incisive 
way  which  forced  the  breathless  attention  of 
every  one  in  the  room.  He  told  without  inter 
ruption  the  story  of  his  arrival  at  Four-Pools 
and  his  conclusions  in  regard  to  the  ha'nt  and 
the  theft ;  he  omitted,  however,  all  mention  of 
the  letter. 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  you  never  made 
your  conclusions  known  to  Colonel  Gay  lord?" 
the  coroner  asked. 

"No,  I  had  been  employed  by  him,  but  I 
thought  under  the  circumstances  it  was  kinder 
to  leave  him  in  ignorance." 

"That  was  a  generous  stand  to  take.  I  sup 
pose  you  lost  something  in  the  way  of  a  fee?" 

The  detective  looked  slightly  uncomforta 
ble  over  the  question. 

"Well,  no,  as  it  happened  I  did  n't.  There 
was  a  sort  of  cousin — Mr.  Crosby" — he 
nodded  toward  me — "visiting  in  the  house 
and  he  footed  the  bill.  He  seemed  to  think 
the  young  man  had  n't  intended  to  steal,  and 
that  it  would  be  pleasanter  all  around  if  I  left 
it  for  them  to  settle  between  themselves." 

"I  protest!"  I  cried.     "I  distinctly  stated 

[ISO] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

my  conviction  that  Radnor  Gaylord  knew 
nothing  of  the  bonds,  and  I  paid  him  to  get 
rid  of  him  because  I  did  not  wish  him  troub 
ling  Colonel  Gaylord  with  any  such  made-up 
story." 

"Mr.  Clancy  is  testifying,"  observed  the 
coroner.  "Now,  Mr.  Clancy,  as  I  under 
stand  it,  you  discovered  as  you  supposed  the 
guilty  man,  and  instead  of  going  to  your 
employer  with  the  story  and  receiving  your 
pay  from  him,  you  accepted  it  from  the 
person  you  had  accused — or  at  least  from  his 
friend?" 

"I  Ve  explained  the  circumstances ;  it  was  a 
mere  matter  of  accommodation." 

"I  suppose  you  know  what  such  accommo 
dation  is  called?" 

"If  you  mean  it  was  blackmail — that  's 
false!  At  least,"  he  added,  quickly  relapsing 
into  good  nature,  "it  was  a  mighty  generous 
kind  of  blackmail.  I  could  have  got  my  pay 
fast  enough  from  the  Colonel  but  I  did  n't 
want  to  stir  up  trouble.  We  all  know  that  it 
is  n't  the  innocent  who  pay  blackmail,"  he 
added  parenthetically. 

C190] 


THE  JURY'S  VERDICT 

"Do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  Mr.  Crosby 
is  implicated?" 

"Lord  no!  He  's  as  innocent  as  a  lamb. 
Young  Gay  lord  was  too  smart  for  him;  he 
hoodwinked  him  as  well  as  the  Colonel  into 
believing  the  bonds  were  stolen  while  he  was 
out  of  the  house." 

A  smile  ran  around  the  rqpm  and  the  detec 
tive  was  excused.  I  sprang  to  my  feet. 

"One  moment!"  I  said.  "I  should  like  to 
ask  Mr.  Clancy  some  questions." 

The  young  man  was  turned  over  to  me, 
plainly  against  his  wishes. 

"What  proof  have  you,  Mr.  Clancy,  that 
the  bonds  were  not  stolen  while  Mr.  Gaylord 
was  out  of  the  house?" 

"Well,  my  investigations  led  me  to  the  be 
lief  that  he  stole  them,  and  that  being  the  case, 
it  must  have  been  done  before  he  left  the 
house." 

"I  see!  And  your  investigations  concerned 
themselves  largely  with  a  letter  which  you 
filched  from  Mr.  Gaylord's  coat  pocket  in  the 
night,  did  they  not?" 

"Not  entirely — the  letter  merely  struck  me 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

as  corroborative  evidence,  though  I  have  since 
learned— 

"Mr.  Clancy,"  I  interrupted  sternly, 
"did  you  not  tell  me  at  the  time,  that  that 
letter  was  absolute  proof  of  his  guilt — yes 
or  no?" 

"I  may  have  said  so  but— 

"Mr.  Clancy,  will  you  kindly  repeat  what 
was  in  that  letter." 

"It  referred  to  some  bonds;  I  don't  know 
that  I  can  recall  the  exact  words." 

"Then  I  must  request  you  to  read  it,"  I  re 
turned,  picking  it  out  from  a  bundle  of  pa 
pers  on  the  table  and  handing  it  to  him.  "I 
am  sorry  to  take  up  so  much  time  with  a  mat 
ter  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  murder,"  I 
added  to  the  coroner,  "but  you  yourself 
brought  up  the  subject  and  it  is  only  fair  to 
hear  the  whole  story." 

He  nodded  permission,  and  ordered  Clancy 
to  read  the  letter.  The  detective  did  so 
amidst  an  astonished  hush.  It  struck  every 
one  as  a  proof  of  guilt,  and  no  one  could 
understand  why  I  had  forced  it  to  the 
front. 

"Now  Mr.   Clancy,"  said  I,  "please  tell 

[192] 


THE  JURY'S  VERDICT 

the  jury  Mr.  Gay  lord's  explanation  of  this 
letter." 

Clancy  with  a  somewhat  sheepish  air  gave 
the  gist  of  what  Radnor  had  said. 

"Did  you  believe  that  story  when  you  first 
heard  it?"  I  asked. 

"No,"  said  he,  "I  did  n&,  because—" 

"Very  well!  But  you  later  went  to  the  of 
fice  of  Jacoby,  Haight  &  Co.,  and  looked  over 
the  files  of  their  correspondence  with  Radnor 
Gaylord  and  verified  his  statement  in  every 
particular,  did  you  not?" 

"Yes,  I  did,  but  still-" 

"That  is  all  I  wish  to  ask,  Mr.  Clancy.  I 
think  the  reason  is  evident,"  I  added,  turning 
to  the  jury,  "why  I  was  willing  to  pay  in  or 
der  to  get  rid  of  him.  Nobody's  character, 
nobody's  correspondence,  was  safe  while  he 
was  in  the  house." 

The  detective  retired  amidst  general  laugh 
ter  and  I  could  see  that  feeling  had  veered 
again  in  Radnor's  favor.  The  total  effect  of 
the  evidence  respecting  the  ha'rit  and  the  rob 
bery  was  good  rather  than  bad,  and  I  more 
than  fancied  that  I  was  indebted  to  the  sheriff 
for  it. 

C198] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Radnor  was  not  called  again  and  that  was 
the  end  of  the  testimony  in  regard  to  him. 
The  rest  of  the  time  was  taken  up  with  a  con 
sideration  of  Cat-Eye  Mose  and  some  further 
questioning  of  the  negroes  in  regard  to  the 
ha'nt.  Old  Nancy  created  considerable  diver 
sion  with  her  account  of  the  spirited  roast 
chicken.  It  had  changed  materially  since  I 
heard  it  last.  She  was  emphatic  in  her  state 
ment  that  "Marse  Rad  did  n't  have  miff  en  to 
do  wif  him.  He  was  a  sho'  miff  ha'nt  an'  his 
gahments  smelt  o'  de  graveyard." 

The  evidence  respecting  Mose  brought  out 
nothing  of  any  consequence,  and  with  that 
the  hearing  was  brought  to  a  close.  The  cor 
oner  instructed  the  jury  on  two  or  three  points 
of  law  and  ended  with  the  brief  formula : 

"You  have  heard  the  testimony  given  by 
these  witnesses.  It  remains  for  you  to  do  your 
duty." 

After  an  interminable  half  hour  the  jury 
men  filed  back  to  their  seats  and  the  clerk  read 
the  verdict : 

"We  find  that  the  said  Richard  Gaylord 
came  to  his  death  in  Luray  Cavern  on  the  19th 


THE  JURY'S  VERDICT 

day  of  May,  by  cerebral  hemorrhage,  the  re 
sult  of  a  wound  inflicted  by  some  blunt 
weapon  in  the  hands  of  a  person  or  persons 
unknown.  We  recommend  that  Radnor 
Fanshaw  Gaylord  be  held  for  trial  before  the 
Grand  Jury." 

Rad  appeared  dazed  at^he  verdict;  though 
in  the  face  of  the  evidence  and  his  own  stub 
born  refusal  to  explain  it,  I  don't  see  how  he 
could  have  expected  any  other  outcome.  As 
for  myself,  it  was  better  than  I  had  feared. 


CHAPTER  XV 

FALSE  CLUES 

THE  fight  had  now  fairly  begun.   The 
district  attorney  was  working  up  the 
side  of  the  prosecution,  aided,  I  was 
sure,  by  the  over-zealous  sheriff.    It  remained 
for  me  to  map  out  some  definite  plan  of  action 
and  organize  the  defence. 

As  I  rode  back  to  Four-Pools  in  the  early 
evening  after  the  inquest,  I  continued  to  dwell 
upon  the  evidence,  searching  blindly  for  some 
clue.  The  question  which  returned  most  per 
sistently  to  my  mind  was  "What  has  become 
of  Cat-Eye  Mose?"  It  was  clear  now  that 
upon  the  answer  to  this  question  hinged  the 
ultimate  solution  of  the  mystery.  I  still 
clung  to  the  belief  that  he  was  guilty  and  in 
hiding.  But  five  days  had  elapsed  since  the 
murder,  and  no  trace  of  him  had  been  discov 
ered.  It  seemed  incredible  that  a  man,  how- 

[196  ] 


FALSE  CLUES 

ever  well  he  might  know  his  ground,  could, 
with  a  whole  county  on  his  track,  elude  detec 
tion  so  effectually. 

Supposing  after  all  that  he  were  not  guilty, 
but  the  sheriff's  theory  that  he  had  been  killed 
and  the  body  concealed,  were  true ;  then  who, 
besides  Radnor,  could  have  had  any  motive 
for  committing  the  crime?  There  was  noth 
ing  from  the  past  that  afforded  even  the  sug 
gestion  of  a  clue.  The  old  man  seemed  to 
have  had  no  enemies  but  his  sons.  His  sons? 
The  thought  of  Jeff  suddenly  sprang  into  my 
mind.  If  anyone  on  earth  owed  the  Colonel  a 
grudge  it  was  his  elder  son.  And  Jeff  had 
more  than  his  share  of  the  Gaylord  spirit 
which  could  not  lightly  forgive  an  injury. 
Could  he  have  returned  secretly  to  the  neigh 
borhood,  and,  following  his  father  into  the 
cave,  have  quarreled  with  him?  Heaven 
knows  he  had  cause  enough !  He  may,  in  his 
anger,  have  struck  the  old  man  without  know 
ing  what  he  was  doing,  and  overcome  with 
horror  at  the  result,  have  left  him  and  fled. 

I  was  almost  as  reluctant  to  believe  him 
guilty  of  the  crime  as  to  believe  it  of  Radnor, 

C197] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

but  the  thought  having  once  come,  would  not 
be  dismissed.  I  knew  that  he  had  sunk  pretty 
low  in  the  nine  years  since  his  disappearance, 
but  I  could  never  think  of  him  otherwise  than 
as  I  myself  remembered  him.  He  had  been 
the  hero  of  my  boyhood  and  I  revolted  from 
the  thought  of  deliberately  setting  out  to 
prove  him  guilty  of  his  father's  murder. 

I  spurred  my  horse  into  a  gallop,  misera 
bly  trying  to  escape  from  my  suspicion;  but 
the  more  I  put  it  from  me  as  impossible,  the 
surer  I  became  that  at  last  I  had  stumbled  on 
a  clue.  Automatically,  I  began  adjusting  the 
evidence  to  fit  this  new  theory,  and  reluctant 
as  I  was  to  see  it,  every  circumstance  from  the 
beginning  fitted  it  perfectly. 

Jeff  had  returned  secretly  to  the  neighbor 
hood,  had  taken  up  his  abode  in  the  old  negro 
cabins  and  made  his  presence  known  only  to 
Mose.  Mose  had  stolen  the  chicken  for  him, 
and  the  various  other  missing  articles.  They 
had  resurrected  the  ha'nt  to  frighten  the  ne 
groes  away  from  the  laurel  walk,  and  the 
night  of  the  party  Rad,  in  his  masquerade, 
had  accidentally  discovered  his  brother.  Jeff 

C198] 


FALSE  CLUES 

demanded  money,  and  Rad  undertook  to  sup 
ply  it  in  order  to  get  him  away  without  his 
father's  knowing.  That  was  why  he  had  bor 
rowed  the  hundred  dollars  from  me,  and  had 
written  to  his  brokers  to  sell  the  bonds.  It 
was  Jeff  who  was  sitting^beside  Radnor  the 
night  they  drove  across  the  lawn.  But  un 
known  to  Rad,  Jeff  had  found  his  way  back 
and  had  robbed  the  safe,  and  Rad  suspecting 
it,  had  refused  to  make  an  investigation. 

During  the  eleven  days  that  intervened  be 
tween  the  robbery  and  the  murder  Jeff  had 
still  been  hiding  in  the  vicinity — possibly  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Luray,  certainly  no 
longer  in  the  cabins,  for  he  had  no  desire  to 
meet  his  brother. 

But  on  the  day  of  the  picnic  they  had  met 
and  quarreled.  Rad  had  charged  him  with 
the  robbery  and  they  had  parted  in  a  high 
state  of  anger.  This  would  explain  Rad's  ac 
tions  in  the  hotel,  his  white  face  later  when  I 
found  him  in  the  summer  house.  And  Jeff, 
still  quivering  from  the  boy's  accusation,  had 
gone  back  into  the  cave  and  met  his  father 
as  the  old  man  was  coming  from  the  little 

[199] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

gallery  of  the  broken  column  with  Polly 
Mathers's  coat.  What  had  happened  there  I 
did  not  like  to  consider ;  they  both  had  uncon 
trolled  tempers,  and  in  the  past  there  had 
been  wrongs  on  both  sides.  Probably  Jeff's 
blow  had  been  harder  than  he  meant. 

In  the  evening  when  Mattison  and  I 
brought  the  news  of  the  murder,  Rad  must 
have  known  instantly  who  was  the  real  cul 
prit.  That  was  why  he  had  kept  silent;  that 
was  why  he  so  vehemently  insisted  on  Mose's 
innocence.  I  had  found  the  light  at  last — 
though  the  darkness  had  been  almost  better. 

What  must  I  do?  I  asked  myself.  Was  it 
my  duty  to  search  out  Jefferson  and  convict 
him  of  this  crime?  No  one  could  tell  what 
provocation  he  may  have  had.  Why  not  let 
matters  take  their  course  ?  There  was  nothing 
but  circumstantial  evidence  against  Radnor. 
Surely  no  jury  would  convict  him  on  that.  I 
could  work  up  a  sufficient  case  against  Mose 
to  assure  his  acquittal.  He  would  be  released 
with  a  blot  on  his  name,  he  would  be  regarded 
for  the  rest  of  his  life  with  suspicion;  but  in 
any  event  there  seemed  to  be  no  outcome 

C2003 


FALSE  CLUES 

which  would  not  involve  the  family  in  endless 
trouble  and  disgrace.  And  besides,  if  he  him 
self  elected  to  be  silent,  had  I  any  right  to 
speak  ?  Then  I  pulled  myself  together.  Yes, 
it  was  not  only  right  for  ^pie  to  speak ;  it  was 
my  duty.  Rad  should  not  be  allowed  to  sac 
rifice  himself.  The  truth,  at  whatever  cost, 
must  be  brought  out. 

My  first  move  must  be  to  discover  Jeff's 
whereabouts  on  the  day  of  his  father's  murder. 
It  ought  not  to  be  difficult  to  trace  a  man  who 
had  come  more  than  once  under  the  surveil 
lance  of  the  police.  Having  made  up  my 
mind  as  to  the  necessary  course,  I  lost  no  time 
in  putting  it  into  action.  I  barely  waited  to 
snatch  a  hasty  supper  before  riding  back  to 
the  village.  From  there  I  sent  a  fifty-word 
telegram  to  the  chief  of  police  in  Seattle  ask 
ing  for  any  information  as  to  the  whereabouts 
of  Jefferson  Gaylord  on  the  nineteenth  of 
May. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  before 
an  answer  came.  So  sure  was  I  of  what  it  was 
going  to  contain,  that  I  read  the  words  twice 
before  comprehending  them. 

C2013 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Jefferson  Gaylord  spent  May  nineteenth  in 
lumber  camp  thirty  miles  from  Seattle.  Well- 
known  character.  Mistaken  identity  impossi 
ble. 

"HENRY  WATERSON, 
"Police  Commissioner/' 

I  had  become  so  obsessed  with  the  horror  of 
my  new  theory ;  so  sure  that  Jeff  was  the  mur 
derer  of  his  father  that  I  could  not  readjust 
my  thoughts  to  the  idea  that  he  had  been  at 
the  time  of  the  crime  three  thousand  miles 
away.  The  case,  then,  still  stood  exactly 
where  it  had  stood  from  the  beginning.  Six 
days  had  passed  since  the  murder  and  I  was 
not  one  inch  nearer  the  truth.  Six  days!  I 
realized  it  with  a  dull  feeling  of  hopelessness. 
Every  day  now  that  was  allowed  to  pass  only 
lessened  the  chance  of  our  ever  finding  Mose 
and  solving  the  mystery. 

I  still  stood  with  the  telegram  in  my  hand 
staring  at  the  words.  I  was  vaguely  aware 
that  a  boy  from  "Miller's  place"  had  ridden 
up  to  the  house  on  a  bicycle,  but  not  until  Sol 
omon  approached  with  a  second  yellow  envel- 

[202  ] 


FALSE  CLUES 

ope  in  his  hand  was  I  jostled  back  into  a  state 

of  comprehension. 

"Nurr  telegram,  Mars'  Arnold." 

I  snatched  it  from  him  and  ripped  it  open, 

hoping  against  hope  that  at  last  a  clue  had 

turned  up.  * 

"NEW  YORK,  May  25. 

"Post-Dispatch  wants  correspondent  on  spot. 
If  you  have  any  facts  to  give  out,  save  them 
for  me.    Arrive  Lambert  Junction  three-fifty. 
"TERENCE  K.  PATTEN." 

Under  the  terrible  strain  of  the  past  six 
days  I  had  completely  forgotten  Terry's  exis 
tence  and  now  the  memory  of  his  cool  imperti 
nence  came  back  to  me  with  a  rush.  For  the 
first  moment  I  felt  too  angry  to  think ;  I  had 
not  credited  even  his  presumption  with  any 
thing  like  this.  His  interference  in  the  Pat- 
terson-Pratt  business  was  bad  enough,  but  he 
might  have  realized  that  this  was  a  personal 
matter.  He  was  calmly  proposing  to  turn 
this  horrible  tragedy  into  a  story  for  the  Sun 
day  papers — and  that  to  a  member  of  the 

[203] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

murdered  man's  own  family.  Hot  with  in 
dignation,  I  tore  the  telegram  into  shreds  and 
stalked  into  the  house.  I  paced  up  and  down 
the  hall  for  fifteen  minutes,  planning  what  I 
should  say  to  him  when  he  arrived ;  and  then, 
as  I  calmed  down,  I  commenced  to  see  the 
thing  in  its  true  light. 

The  whole  account  of  the  crime  to  the  mi 
nutest  detail,  had  already  appeared  in  every 
newspaper  in  the  country,  together  with  the 
most  outrageous  stories  of  Radnor's  past  ca 
reer.  At  least  nothing  could  be  worse  than 
what  had  already  been  said.  And  after  all, 
was  not  the  truth — any  truth — better  than 
these  vague  suspicions,  this  terrible  suspense? 
Terry  could  find  the  truth  if  any  man  on  earth 
could  do  it.  He  had,  I  knew,  unraveled  other 
tangles  as  mysterious  as  this.  He  was  used 
to  this  sort  of  work,  and  bringing  to  the  mat 
ter  a  fresh  mind,  would  see  light  where  it  was 
only  darkness  to  me.  I  had  been  under  such 
a  terrific  strain  for  so  long  and  had  borne  so 
much  responsibility,  that  the  very  thought  of 
having  someone  with  whom  I  could  share  it 
gave  me  new  strength.  My  feeling  toward 

120*1 


FALSE  CLUES 

him  veered  suddenly  from  indignation  to 
gratitude.  His  irrepressible  confidence  in 
himself  inspired  me  with  a  like  confidence, 
and  I  wondered  what  I  had  been  thinking  of 
that  I  had  not  sent  for  him  at  once.  To  my 
jaded  mind  his  promised  arrival  appeared 
better  than  a  clue — it  was  almost  equal  to  a 
solution. 


£205] 


CHAPTER  XVI 

TERRY  COMES 

THE  moment  I  caught  sight  of  Terry 
as  he  swung  off  the  train  I  felt  invol 
untarily  that  my  troubles  were  near 
their  end.    His  sharp,  eager  face  with  its  firm 
jaw  and  quick  eye  inspired  one  with  the  feel 
ing  that  he  could  find  the  bottom  of  any  mys 
tery.    It  was  with  a  deep  breath  of  relief  that 
I  held  out  my  hand. 

"Hello,  old  man!  How  are  you?"  he  ex 
claimed  with  a  smile  of  cordiality  as  he 
grasped  it.  And  then  recalling  the  gravity  of 
the  situation,  he  with  some  difficulty  pulled  a 
sober  face.  "I  'm  sorry  that  we  meet  again 
under  such  sad  circumstances,"  he  added  per 
functorily.  "I  suppose  you  think  I  've  med 
dled  enough  in  your  affairs  already;  and  on 
my  word,  I  intended  to  stay  out  of  this.  But 
of  course  I  've  been  watching  it  in  the  papers ; 
partly  because  it  was  interesting  and  partly 

[206] 


TERRY  COMES 

because  I  knew  you.  It  struck  me  yesterday 
afternoon  as  I  was  thinking  things  over  that 
you  were  n't  making  much  headway  and 
might  like  a  little  help ;  so  I  induced  the  Post- 
Dispatch  to  send  down  their  best  man.  I 
hope  I  shall  get  at  the  truth."  He  paused  a 
moment  and  looked  at  me  sharply.  "Do  you 
want  me  to  stay?  I  will  go  back  if  you  'd 
rather  have  me." 

I  was  instantly  ashamed  of  my  distrust  of 
the  afternoon.  Whatever  might  be  Terry's 
failings,  I  could  not  doubt,  as  I  looked  into 
his  face,  that  his  Irish  heart  was  in  the  right 
place. 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  the  truth,"  I  returned 
steadily.  "If  you  can  discover  it,  for  Heav 
en's  sake  do  so!" 

"That  's  what  I  'm  paid  for,"  said  Terry. 
"The  Post-Dispatch  does  n't  deal  in  fiction 
any  more  than  it  can  help." 

As  we  climbed  into  the  carriage  he  added 
briskly,  "It  's  a  horrible  affair!  The  details 
as  I  have  them  from  the  papers  are  not  full 
enough,  but  you  can  tell  them  to  me  as  we 
drive  along." 

£207  3 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

I  should  have  laughed  had  I  been  feeling 
less  anxious.  His  greeting  was  so  entirely 
characteristic  in  the  way  he  shuffled  through 
the  necessary  condolences  and  jumped,  with 
such  evident  relish,  to  the  gruesome  details. 

As  I  gathered  up  the  reins  and  backed 
away  from  the  hitching-post,  Terry  broke  out 
with: 

"Here,  hold  on  a  minute.  Where  are  you 
going?" 

"Back  to  Four-Pools,"  I  said  in  some  sur 
prise.  "I  thought  you  'd  want  to  unpack  your 
things  and  get  settled." 

"Have  n't  much  time  to  get  settled,"  he 
laughed.  "I  have  an  engagement  in  New 
York  the  day  after  to-morrow.  How  about 
the  cave?  Is  it  too  late  to  visit  it  now?" 

"Well,"  I  said  dubiously,  "it  's  ten  miles 
across  the  mountains  and  pretty  heavy  roads. 
It  would  be  dark  before  we  got  there." 

"As  far  as  that  goes,  we  could  visit  the  cave 
at  night  as  well  as  in  the  daytime.  But  I 
want  to  examine  the  neighborhood  and  inter 
view  some  of  the  people;  so  I  suppose,"  he 
added  with  an  impatient  sigh,  "we  '11  have  to 

[208  ] 


TERRY  COMES 

wait  till  morning.  And  now,  where  's  this 
young  Gaylord?" 

"He  's  in  the  Kennisburg  jail." 

"And  where's  that?" 

"About  three  miles  from  here  and  six  miles 
from  the  plantation." 

"Ah — suppose  we  pay  him  a  visit  first. 
There  are  one  or  two  points  concerning  his 
whereabouts  on  the  night  of  the  robbery  and 
his  actions  on  the  day  of  the  murder  that  I 
should  like  to  have  him  clear  up." 

I  smiled  slightly  as  I  turned  the  horses' 
heads  toward  Kennisburg.  Radnor  in  his 
present  uncommunicative  frame  of  mind  was 
not  likely  to  afford  Terry  much  satisfaction. 

"There  is  n't  any  time  to  waste,"  he  added 
as  we  drove  along.  "Just  let  me  have  your 
account  of  everything  that  happened,  begin 
ning  with  the  first  appearance  of  the  ghost." 

I  briefly  sketched  the  situation  at  Four- 
Pools  as  I  had  found  it  on  my  arrival,  and  the 
events  preceding  the  robbery  and  the  murder. 
Terry  interrupted  me  once  or  twice  with  ques 
tions.  He  was  particularly  interested  in  the 
three-cornered  situation  concerning  Radnor, 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Polly  Mathers,  and  Jim  Mattison,  and  I  was 
as  brief  as  possible  in  my  replies;  I  did  not 
care  to  make  Polly  the  heroine  of  a  Sunday 
feature  article.  He  was  also  persistent  in  re 
gard  to  Jefferson's  past.  I  told  him  all  I 
knew,  added  the  story  of  my  own  suspicions, 
and  ended  by  producing  the  telegram  proving 
his  alibi. 

"H'm!"  said  Terry  folding  it  thoughtfully 
and  putting  it  in  his  pocket.  "It  had  occurred 
to  me  too  that  Jeff  might  be  our  man — this 
puts  an  end  to  the  theory  that  he  personally 
committed  the  murder.  There  are  some  very 
peculiar  points  about  this  case,"  he  added. 
"As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  don't  believe  that  Rad 
nor  Gaylord  is  any  more  guilty  of  the  crime 
than  I  am— or  I  should  n't  have  come.  But 
it  won't  do  for  me  to  jump  at  conclusions  un 
til  I  get  more  data.  I  suppose  you  realize 
what  is  the  peculiarly  significant  point  about 
the  murder?" 

"You  mean  Mose's  disappearance?" 
"Well,  no.     I  did  n't  have  that  in  mind. 
That  's  significant  enough  to  be  sure,  but 
nothing  but  what  you  would  naturally  expect. 

[210  ] 


TERRY  COMES 

The  crime  was  committed,  if  your  data  is 
straight,  either  by  him  or  in  his  presence,  and 
of  course  he  disappears.  You  could  scarcely 
have  expected  to  find  him  sitting  there  wait 
ing  for  you,  in  either  case." 

"You  mean  Radnor's  behavior  on  the  day 
of  the  murder  and  his  refusal  to  explain  it?"  I 
asked  uneasily. 

"No,"  Terry  laughed.  "That  may  be  sig 
nificant  and  it  may  not— I  strongly  suspect 
that  it  is  not.  What  I  mean,  is  the  peculiar 
place  in  which  the  crime  was  committed.  No 
person  on  earth  could  have  foreseen  that  Colo 
nel  Gaylord  would  go  alone  into  that  cave. 
There  is  an  accidental  element  about  the  mur 
der.  It  must  have  been  committed  on  the  spur 
of  the  moment  by  someone  who  had  not  pre 
meditated  it— at  least  at  that  time.  This  is 
the  point  we  must  keep  in  mind." 

He  sat  for  a  few  moments  staring  at  the 
dashboard  with  a  puzzled  frown. 

"Broadly  speaking,"  he  said  slowly,  "I 
have  found  that  you  can  place  the  motive  of 
every  wilful  murder  under  one  of  three  heads 
— avarice,  fear  or  revenge.  Suppose  we  con- 

Can] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

sider  the  first.  Could  avarice  have  been 
the  motive  for  Colonel  Gaylord's  murder? 
The  body  had  not  been  robbed,  you  tell 
me?" 

"No,  we  found  a  gold  watch  and  considera 
ble  money  in  the  pockets." 

"Then,  you  see,  if  the  motive  were  avarice, 
it  could  not  have  been  immediate  gain.  That 
throws  out  the  possibility  that  the  murderer 
was  some  unknown  thief  who  merely  took  ad 
vantage  of  a  chance  opportunity.  If  we  are 
to  conceive  of  avarice  as  the  motive,  the  crime 
must  have  been  committed  by  some  person 
who  would  benefit  more  remotely  by  the  Colo 
nel's  death.  Did  anyone  owe  him  money  that 
you  know  of?" 

"There  is  no  record  of  anything  of  the  sort 
and  he  was  a  careful  business  man.  I  do  not 
think  he  would  have  loaned  money  without 
making  some  memorandum  of  it.  He  held 
several  mortgages  but  they,  of  course,  revert 
to  his  heirs." 

"I  understood  that  Radnor  was  the  only 
heir." 

"He  is,  practically.    There  are  a  few  minor 


TERRY  COMES 

bequests  to  the  servants  and  to  some  old 
friends." 

"Did  the  servants  know  that  anything  was 
to  go  to  them?" 

"No,  I  don't  think  they  did." 

"And  this  Cat-Eye  Mose,  did  he  receive  a 
share?" 

"Yes,  larger  than  any  of  the  others." 

"It  seems  that  Colonel  Gaylord,  at  least, 
had  confidence  in  him.  And  how  about  the 
other  son?  Did  he  know  that  he  was  to  be 
disinherited?" 

"I  think  that  the  Colonel  made  it  plain  at 
the  time  they  parted." 

Terry  shook  his  head  and  frowned. 

"This  disinheriting  business  is  bad.  I  don't 
like  it  and  I  never  shall.  It  stirs  up  more  ill- 
feeling  than  anything  I  know  of.  Jeff  seems 
to  have  proved  an  alibi,  however,  and  we  will 
dismiss  him  for  the  present." 

"Rad  has  always  sympathized  with  Jeff,"  I 
said. 

"Then,"  continued  Terry,  "if  the  servants 
did  not  know  the  contents  of  the  will,  and  we 
have  all  of  the  data,  Radnor  is  the  only  one 

C213] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

who  could  knowingly  have  benefited  by  the 
Colonel's  death.  Suppose  we  take  a  glance  at 
motives  of  fear.  Do  you  know  of  anyone  who 
had  reason  to  stand  in  fear  of  the  Colo 
nel?  He  was  n't  oppressing  anybody?  No 
damaging  evidence  against  any  person  in 
his  possession?  Not  levying  black-mail  was 
he?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of,"  and  I  smiled 
slightly. 

"It  's  not  likely,"  mused  Terry,  "but  you 
never  can  tell  what  is  going  to  come  out  when 
a  respectable  man  is  dead. — And  now  as  to  re 
venge.  With  a  man  of  Colonel  Gaylord's 
character,  there  were  likely  to  be  a  good  many 
people  who  owed  him  a  bad  turn.  He  seems 
to  have  been  a  peppery  old  gentleman.  It 's 
quite  on  the  cards  that  he  had  some  enemies 
among  his  neighbors?" 

"No,  so  far  as  I  can  discover,  he  was  very 
popular  in  the  neighborhood.  The  indigna 
tion  over  his  death  was  something  tremendous. 
When  it  first  got  out  that  Rad  was  accused  of 
the  crime,  there  was  even  talk  of  lynching 
him." 

£214  ] 


TERRY  COMES 

"So? — Servants  all  appeared  to  be  fond  of 
him?" 

"The  old  family  servants  were  broken 
hearted  at  the  news  of  his  death.  They  had 
been,  for  the  most  part,  born  and  bred  on  the 
place,  and  in  spite  of  his  occasional  harshness 
they  loved  the  Colonel  with  the  old-fashioned 
devotion  of  the  slave  toward  his  master.  He 
was  in  his  way  exceedingly  kind  to  them. 
When  old  Uncle  Eben  died  my  uncle  watched 
all  night  by  his  bed." 

"It  's  a  queer  situation,"  Terry  muttered, 
and  relapsed  into  silence  till  we  reached  the 
jail. 

It  was  an  ivy-covered  brick  building  set 
back  from  the  street  and  shaded  by  trees. 

"Rather  more  home-like  than  the  Tombs," 
Terry  commented.  "Should  n't  mind  taking 
a  rest  in  it  myself." 

We  found  Radnor  pacing  up  and  down 
the  small  room  in  which  he  was  confined,  like 
a  caged  animal;  the  anxiety  and  seclusion 
were  beginning  to  tell  on  his  nerves.  He 
faced  about  quickly  as  the  door  opened  and  at 
sight  of  me  his  face  lightened.  He  was  grow- 

£215] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

ing  pathetically  pleased  at  having  anyone 
with  whom  he  could  talk. 

"Rad,"  I  said  with  an  air  of  cheerfulness 
which  was  not  entirely  assumed,  "I  hope 
we  're  nearing  the  end  of  our  trouble  at  last. 
This  is  Mr.  Patten— Terry  Patten  of  New 
York,  who  has  come  to  help  me  unravel  the 
mystery." 

It  was  an  unfortunate  beginning;  I  had 
told  him  before  of  Terry's  connection  wii\  the 
Patterson-Pratt  affair.  He  had  half  held  out 
his  hand  as  I  commenced  to  speak,  but  he 
dropped  it  now  with  a  slight  frown. 

"I  don't  think  I  care  to  be  interviewed,"  he 
remarked  curtly.  "I  have  nothing  to  say  for 
the  benefit  of  the  Post-Dispatch." 

"You  'd  better,"  said  Terry,  imperturbably. 
"The  Post-Dispatch  prints  the  truth,  you 
know,  and  some  of  the  other  papers  don't. 
The  truth  's  always  the  best  in  the  end.  I 
merely  want  to  find  out  what  information  you 
can  give  me  in  regard  to  the  ghost." 

"I  will  tell  you  nothing,"  Radnor  growled. 
"I  am  not  giving  statements  to  the  press." 

"Mr.  Gaylord,"  said  Terry,  with  an  as- 

[216] 


TERRY  COMES 

sumption  of  gentle  patience,  "if  you  will  ex 
cuse  my  referring  to  what  I  know  must  be  a 
painful  subject,  would  you  mind  telling  me 
if  the  suspicion  has  ever  crossed  your  mind 
that  your  brother  Jefferson  may  have  re 
turned  secretly,  have  abstracted  the  bonds 
from  the  safe,  and,  two  weeks  later,  quite  ac 
cidentally,  have  met  Colonel  Gaylord  alone  in 
the  cave— 

Radnor  turned  upon  him  in  a  sudden  fury ; 
I  thought  for  a  moment  he  was  going  to  strike 
him  and  I  sprang  forward  and  caught  his  arm. 

"The  Gaylords  may  be  a  bad  lot  but  they 
are  not  liars  and  they  are  not  cowards.  They 
do  not  run  away ;  they  stand  by  the  consequen 
ces  of  their  acts." 

Terry  bowed  gravely. 

"Just  one  more  question,  and  I  am  through. 
What  happened  to  you  that  day  in  the  cave?" 

"It  's  none  of  your  damned  business!" 

I  glanced  apprehensively  at  Terry,  uncer 
tain  as  to  how  he  would  take  this ;  but  he  did 
not  appear  to  resent  it.  He  looked  Radnor 
over  with  an  air  of  interested  approval  and  his 
smile  slowly  broadened. 

[217] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"I  'm  glad  to  see  you  're  game,"  he  re 
marked. 

"I  tell  you  I  don't  know  who  killed  my 
father  any  more  than  you  do,"  Radnor  cried. 
"You  need  n't  come  here  asking  me  questions; 
Go  and  find  the  murderer  if  you  can,  and  if 
you  can't,  hang  me  and  be  done  with  it." 

"I  don't  know  that  we  need  take  up  any 
more  of  Mr.  Gaylord's  time,"  said  Terry  to 
me.  "I  Ve  found  out  about  all  I  wished  to 
know.  We  '11  drop  in  again,"  he  added  reas 
suringly  to  Radnor.  "Good  afternoon." 

As  we  went  out  of  the  door  he  turned  back  a 
moment  and  added  with  a  slightly  sharp  un 
dertone  in  his  voice : 

"And  the  next  time  I  come,  Gay  lord, 
you  '11  shake  hands!"  Fumbling  in  his  pocket 
he  drew  out  my  telegram  from  the  police 
commissioner,  and  tossed  it  onto  the  cot.  "In 
the  meantime  there  's  something  for  you  to 
think  about.  Good  by." 

"Do  you  mean,"  I  asked  as  we  climbed  back 
into  the  carriage,  "that  Radnor  did  believe 
Jeff  guilty?" 

"Well,  not  exactly.    I  fancy  he  will  be  re- 

[218] 


TERRY  COMES 

lieved,  though,  to  find  that  Jeff  was  three 
thousand  miles  away  when  the  murder  was 
committed." 

Only  once  during  the  drive  home  did  Terry 
exhibit  any  interest  in  his  surroundings,  and 
that  was  when  we  passed  through  the  village 
of  Lambert  Corners.  He  made  me  slow  down 
to  a  walk  and  explain  the  purpose  of  every 
one  of  the  dozen  or  so  buildings  along  the 
square.  At  "Miller's  place"  he  suddenly  de 
cided  that  he  needed  some  stamps  and  I 
waited  outside  while  he  obtained  them  to 
gether  with  a  drink  in  the  private  back  room. 

"Nothing  like  getting  the  lay  of  the  land," 
he  remarked  as  he  climbed  back  into  the  car 
riage.  "That  Miller  is  a  picturesque  old 
party.  He  thinks  it  's  all  tommy-rot  that 
Radnor  Gaylord  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
crime— Rad*  's  a  customer  of  his,  and  it  's  a 
downright  imposition  to  lock  the  boy  up 
where  he  can't  spend  money." 

For  the  rest  of  the  drive  Terry  kept  silence 
and  I  did  not  venture  to  interrupt  it.  I  had 
come  to  have  a  superstitious  feeling  that  his 
silences  were  portentous.  It  was  not  until  I 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

stopped  to  open  the  gate  into  our  own  home 
lane,  that  he  suddenly  burst  out  with  the  ques 
tion: 

"Where  do  the  Mathers  people  live?" 

"A  couple  "of  miles  farther  down  the  pike 
—they  have  no  connection  whatever  with 
the  business,  and  don't  know  a  thing  about 
it." 

"Ah— perhaps  not.  Would  it  be  too  late  to 
drive  over  to-night?" 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "it  would." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  he,  good-humoredly. 
"There  '11  be  time  enough  in  the  morning." 

I  let  this  pass  without  comment,  but  on  one 
thing  I  was  resolved ;  and  that  was  that  Polly 
Mathers  should  never  fall  into  Terry's 
clutches. 

"There  are  a  lot  of  questions  I  want  to  ask 
about  your  ghost,  but  I  '11  wait  till  I  get  my 
bearings — and  my  dinner,"  he  added  with  a 
laugh.  "There  was  n't  any  dining  car  on  that 
train,  and  I  breakfasted  early  and  omitted 
lunch." 

"Here  we  are,"  I  said,  as  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  house.  "The  cook  is  expecting  us." 

C220: 


TERRY  COMES 

"So  that  is  the  Gaylord  house  is  it?  A  fine 
old  place!  When  was  it  built?" 

"About  1830,  I  imagine." 

"Let  me  see,  Sheridan  rode  up  the  Shenan- 
doah  Valley  and  burned  everything  in  sight. 
How  did  this  place  happen  to  escape?" 

"I  don't  know  just  how  it  did.  You  see  it 's 
a  mile  back  from  the  main  road  and  well  hid 
den  by  trees — I  suppose  they  were  in  a  hurry 
and  it  escaped  their  attention." 

"And  that  row  of  shanties  down  there?" 

"Are  the  haunted  negro  cabins." 

"Ah!"  Terry  rose  in  his  seat  and  scanned 
them  eagerly.  "We  '11  have  a  look  at  them  as 
soon  as  I  get  something  to  eat.  Really,  a 
farm  is  n't  so  bad,"  he  remarked  as  he  stepped 
out  upon  the  portico.  "And  is  this  Solomon?" 
he  inquired  as  the  old  negro  came  forward  to 
take  his  bag.  "Well,  Solomon,  I  Ve  been 
reading  about  you  in  the  papers !  You  and  I 
are  going  to  have  a  talk  by  and  by." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

WE  SEARCH  THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

NOW,"  said  Terry,  as  Solomon  and  the 
suitcase  disappeared  upstairs,  "let  's 
you  and  I  have  a  look  at  those 
haunted  cabins." 

"I  thought  you  were  hungry!" 

"Starving — but  I  still  have  strength 
enough  to  get  that  far.  Solomon  says  supper 
won't  be  ready  for  half  an  hour,  and'  we 
have  n't  half  an  hour  to  waste.  I  'm  due  in  the 
city  the  day  after  to-morrow,  remember." 

"You  won't  find  anything,"  I  said.  "I  Ve 
searched  every  one  of  those  cabins  myself  and 
the  ha'nt  did  n't  leave  a  trace  behind  him." 

"I  think  I  '11  just  glance  about  with  my 
own  eyes,"  laughed  Terry.  "Reporters  some 
times  see  things,  you  know,  where  corporation 
lawyers  don't." 

"Just  as  you  please,"  I  replied.  "Four- 
Pools  is  at  your  disposal." 

[2223 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

I  led  the  way  across  the  lawn  and  into  the 
laurel  growth.  Terry  followed  with  eyes 
eagerly  alert ;  the  gruesome  possibilities  of  the 
place  appealed  to  him.  He  pushed  through 
the  briars  that  surrounded  the  first  cabin  and 
came  out  on  the  slope  behind,  where  he  stood 
gazing  down  delightedly  at  the  dark  waters 
of  the  fourth  pool. 

"My  word!  This  is  great.  We  '11  run  a 
half-page  picture  and  call  it  the  'Haunted 
Tarn.'  Did  n't  know  such  places  really  ex 
isted — thought  writers  made  'em  up.  Come 
on,"  he  called,  plunging  back  to  the  laurel 
walk,  "we  must  catch  our  ghost;  I  don't  want 
this  scenery  to  go  to  waste." 

We  commenced  at  the  first  cabin  and  went 
down  the  row  thoroughly  and  systematically. 
At  Terry's  insistence  one  of  the  stable  men 
brought  a  ladder  and  we  climbed  into  every 
loft,  finding  nothing  but  spiders  and  dust. 
The  last  on  the  left,  being  more  weatherproof 
than  the  others,  was  used  as  a  granary.  A 
space  six  feet  square  was  left  inside  the  door, 
but  for  the  rest  the  room  was  filled  nearly  to 
the  ceiling  with  sacks  of  Indian  meal. 

[223] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"How  about  this— did  you  examine  this 
cabin  ?" 

"Well,  really,  Terry;  there  is  n't  much 
room  for  a  ghost  here." 

"Ghosts  don't  require  much  room;  how 
about  the  loft?" 

"I  did  n't  go  up— you  can't  get  at  the  trap 
without  moving  all  the  meal." 

"I  see!"  Terry  was  examining  the  three 
walls  of  sacks  before  us.  "Now  here  is  a  sack 
rather  dirtier  than  the  rest  and  squashy.  It 
looks  to  me  as  if  it  had  had  a  good  deal  of 
rough  handling." 

He  pulled  it  to  the  floor  as  he  spoke,  and 
another  with  it.  A  space  some  three  feet 
high  was  visible;  by  crawling  one  could 
make  his  way  along  without  hitting  the 
ceiling. 

"Come  on!"  said  Terry,  scrambling  to  the 
top  of  the  pile  and  pulling  me  after  him, 
"we  Ve  struck  the  trail  of  our  ghostly  friend 
unless  I  'm  very  much  mistaken. — Look  at 
that!"  He  pointed  to  a  muddy  foot-mark 
plainly  outlined  on  one  of  the  sacks.  "Don't 
disturb  it ;  we  may  want  to  compare  it  with  the 

[224  ] 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

marks  in  the  cave.  — Hello!  What  's  this? 
The  print  of  a  bare  foot— that  's  our  friend, 
Mose." 

He  took  out  a  pocket  rule  and  made  careful 
measurements  of  both  prints ;  the  result  he  set 
down  in  a  note  book.  I  was  quite  as  excited 
now  as  Terry.  We  crawled  along  on  all  fours 
until  we  reached  the  open  trap;  there  was  no 
trace  here  of  either  spider-webs  or  dust.  We 
scrambled  into  the  loft  without  much  diffi 
culty,  and  found  a  large  room  with  sloping 
beams  overhead  and  two  small  windows,  in 
nocent  of  glass,  at  either  end.  The  room  was 
empty  but  clean;  it  had  been  thoroughly 
swept,  and  recently.  Terry  poked  about  but 
found  nothing. 

"H'm!"  he  grunted.  "Mose  cleaned  well. 
—Ah!  Here  we  are!" 

He  paused  before  a  horizontal  beam  along 
the  side  wall  and  pointed  to  a  little  pile  of 
ashes  and  a  cigar  stub. 

"He  smokes  cigars,  and  good  strong  ones — 
at  least  he  is  n't  a  lady.  Did  you  ever  see  a 
cigar  like  that  before?" 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "that 's  the  kind  the  Colonel 

C2253 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

always  smoked — a  fresh  box  was  stolen  from 
the  dining-room  cupboard  a  day  or  so  after  I 
got  here.  Solomon  said  it  was  the  ha'nt,  but 
we  suspected  it  was  Solomon." 

"Was  the  cupboard  unlocked?" 

"Oh,  yes;  any  of  the  house  servants  could 
have  got  at  it." 

"Well,"  said  Terry,  poking  his  head  from 
the  windows  for  a  view  of  the  ground  beneath, 
"that  's  all  there  seems  to  be  here;  we  might 
as  well  go  down." 

We  boosted  up  the  two  meal  bags  again, 
and  started  back  toward  the  house.  Terry's 
eyes  studied  his  surroundings  keenly,  whether 
for  the  sake  of  the  story  he  was  planning  to 
write  or  the  mystery  he  was  trying  to  solve,  I 
could  only  conjecture.  His  glance  presently 
fixed  on  the  stables  where  old  Uncle  Jake  was 
visible  sitting  on  an  upturned  pail  in  the  door 
way. 

"You  go  on,"  he  ordered,  "and  have  'em 
put  dinner  or  supper  or  whatever  you  call  it 
on  the  table,  and  I  '11  be  back  in  three  minutes. 
I  want  to  see  what  that  old  fellow  over  there 
has  to  say  in  regard  to  the  ghost." 

C226] 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

It  was  fifteen  minutes  later  that  Terry  re 
appeared. 

"Well,"  I  inquired  as  I  led  the  way  to  the 
dining-room,  "did  you  get  any  news  of  the 
ghost?" 

"Did  I!  The  Society  for  Psychical  Re 
search  ought  to  investigate  this  neighborhood. 
They  'd  find  more  spirits  in  half  an  hour  than 
they  Ve  found  in  their  whole  past  history." 

Terry's  attention  during  supper  was  chiefly 
directed  toward  Nancy's  fried  chicken  and 
beat  biscuits.  When  he  did  make  any  re 
marks  he  addressed  them  to  Solomon  rather 
than  to  me.  Solomon  was  loquacious  enough 
in  general,  but  he  had  his  own  ideas  of  table 
decorum,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  friendly 
advances  of  my  guest  considerably  scandal 
ized  him.  When  the  coffee  and  cigars  were 
brought  on,  Terry  appeared  to  be  on  the  point 
of  inviting  Solomon  to  sit  down  and  have  a 
cigar  with  us ;  but  he  thought  better  of  it,  and 
contented  himself  with  talking  to  the  old  man 
across  my  shoulder.  He  confined  his  ques 
tions  to  matters  concerning  the  household  and 
the  farm,  and  Solomon  in  vain  endeavored  to 

C2273 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

confine  his  replies  to  "yes,  sah,"  "no,  sah," 
"jes'  so,  sah!"  In  five  minutes  he  was  well 
started,  and  it  would  have  required  a  flood 
gate  to  stop  him. 

In  the  midst  of  it  Terry  rose  and  dismissing 
me  with  a  brief,  "I  '11  join  you  in  the  library 
later;  I  want  to  talk  to  Solomon  a  few  min 
utes,"  he  bowed  me  out  and  shut  the  door. 

I  was  amused  rather  than  annoyed  by  this 
summary  dismissal.  Terry  had  been  in  the 
house  not  quite  two  hours,  and  I  am  sure  that 
a  third  person,  looking  on,  would  have  picked 
me  out  for  the  stranger.  Terry's  way  of  be 
ing  at  home  in  any  surroundings  was  abso 
lutely  inimitable.  Had  he  ever  had  occasion 
to  visit  Windsor  Castle  I  am  sure  that  he 
would  have  set  about  immediately  making 
King  Edward  feel  at  home. 

He  appeared  in  the  library  in  the  course  of 
half  an  hour  with  the  apology:  "I  hope  you 
did  n't  mind  being  turned  out.  Servants  are 
sometimes  embarrassed,  you  know,  about  tell 
ing  the  truth  before  any  of  the  family." 

"You  did  n't  get  much  truth  out  of  Solo 
mon,"  I  retorted. 

C228] 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

"I  don't  know  that  I  did,"  Terry  admitted 
with  a  laugh.  "There  are  the  elements  of  a 
good  reporter  in  Solomon ;  he  has  an  imagina 
tion  which  I  respect.  The  Gaylords  appear  to 
be  an  interesting  family  with  hereditary  tem 
pers.  The  ghost,  I  hear,  beat  a  slave  to  death, 
and  to  pay  for  it  is  doomed  to  pace  the  laurel 
walk  till  the  day  of  judgment." 

"That  's  the  story,"  I  nodded,  "and  the 
beating  is  at  least  authentic." 

"H'm!"  Terry  frowned.  "And  Solomon 
tells  me  tales  of  the  Colonel  himself  whipping 
the  negroes— there  can't  be  any  truth  in  that?" 

"But  there  is,"  I  said.  "He  did  n't  hesitate 
to  strike  them  when  he  was  angry.  I  myself 
saw  him  beat  a  nigger  a  few  days  ago,"  and  I 
recounted  the  story  of  the  chicken  thief. 

"So!  A  man  of  that  sort  is  likely  to  have 
enemies  he  does  n't  suspect.  How  about  Cat- 
Eye  Mose?  Was  Colonel  Gaylord  in  the 
habit  of  whipping  him?" 

"Often,"  I  nodded,  "but  the  more  the  Colo 
nel  abused  Mose,  the  fonder  Mose  appeared 
to  grow  of  the  Colonel." 

"It 's  a  puzzling  situation,"  said  Terry  pac- 

[289] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

ing  up  and  down  the  room  with  a  thoughtful 
frown.  "Well!"  he  exclaimed  with  .a  sudden 
access  of  energy,  "I  suppose  we  might  as  well 
sit  down  and  tackle  it." 

He  took  off  his  coat  and  rolled  up  his  shirt 
sleeves;  then  shoving  everything  back  from 
one  end  of  the  big  library  table,  he  settled 
himself  in  a  chair  and  motioned  me  to  one  op 
posite. 

"Tomorrow  morning,"  he  said  as  he  took 
out  from  his  pockets  a  roll  of  newspaper  clip 
pings  and  a  yellow  copy  pad,  "we  will  drive 
over  and  have  a  look  at  that  cave ;  it  ought  to 
tell  its  own  story.  But  in  the  meantime—  "  he 
looked  up  with  a  laugh— "suppose  we  use  our 
brains  a  little." 

I  did  not  resent  the  inference.  Terry  was 
his  old  impudent  self,  and  I  was  so  relieved  at 
having  him  there,  assuming  the  responsibility, 
that  he  might  have  wiped  the  floor  with  me 
and  welcome. 

"Our  object,"  he  commenced,  "is  not  to 
prove  your  cousin  innocent  of  the  murder,  but 
to  find  out  who  is  guilty.  The  most  logical 
method  would  be  to  study  the  scene  of  the 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

crime  first,  but  as  that  does  not  appear  feasi 
ble  until  morning,  we  will  examine  such  data 
as  we  have.  On  the  face  of  it  the  only  two 
who  appear  to  be  implicated  are  Radnor  and 
this  Cat-Eye  Mose— who  is  a  most  pictur 
esque  character,"  Terry  added,  the  reporter 
for  the  moment  getting  ahead  of  the  detective. 

He  paused  and  examined  .the  end  of  his 
fountain  pen  speculatively,  and  then  ran 
through  the  pile  of  clippings  before  him. 

"Well,  now,  as  for  Radnor.  Suppose  we 
look  into  his  case  a  little."  He  glanced  over 
one  of  the  newspaper  slips  and  tossed  it  across 
to  me. 

"There  's  a  clipping  from  the  'Baltimore 
Censor'— a  tolerably  conservative  journal. 
What  have  you  to  say  in  regard  to  it?" 

I  picked  it  up  and  glanced  it  over.  It  was 
dated  May  twenty-third— four  days  after  the 
murder— and  was  the  same  in  substance  as 
many  other  articles  I  had  read  in  the  past 
week. 

"No  new  evidence  has  come  to  light  in  re 
gard  to  the  sensational  murder  of  Colonel 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Gaylord  whose  body  was  discovered  in  Luray 
Cave,  Virginia,  a  few  days  ago.  The  author 
ities  now  concur  in  the  belief  that  the  crime 
was  committed  by  the  son  of  the  murdered 
man.  The  accused  is  awaiting  trial  in  the 
Kennisburg  jail. 

"It  seems  impossible  that  any  man,  how 
ever  depraved,  could  in  cold  blood  commit  so 
brutal  and  unnatural  a  crime  as  that  with 
which  Radnor  Gaylord  is  accused.  It  is  only 
in  the  light  of  his  past  history  that  the  action 
can  be  understood.  Coming  from  one  of  the 
oldest  families  of  Virginia,  an  heir  to  wealth 
and  an  honored  name,  he  is  but  another  ex 
ample  of  the  many  who  have  sold  their  birth 
right  for  a  mess  of  pottage.  A  drunkard  and 
a  spendthrift,  he  wasted  his  youth  in  gam 
bling  and  betting  on  the  races  while  honest 
men  were  toiling  for  their  daily  bread. 

"Several  times  has  Radnor  Gaylord  been 
disinherited  and  turned  adrift,  but  Colonel 
Gaylord,  weak  in  his  love  for  his  youngest 
son,  invariably  received  him  back  again  into 
the  house  he  had  dishonored.  Finally,  pressed 
beyond  the  point  of  endurance,  the  old  man 

[232] 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

took  a  firm  stand  and  refused  to  meet  his  son's 
inordinate  demands  for  money.  Young  Gay- 
lord,  rendered  desperate  by  debts,  took  the 
most  obvious  method  of  gaining  his  inheri 
tance.  His  part  in  the  tragedy  of  Colonel 
Gaylord's  death  is  as  good  as  proved,  though 
he  persistently  and  defiantly  denies  all  know 
ledge  of  the  crime.  No  sympathy  can  be  felt 
for  him.  The  wish  of  every  right-minded  man 
in  the  country  must  be  that  the  law  will  take 
its  course— and  that  as  speedily  as  possible." 

"Well?"  said  Terry  as  I  finished. 

"It  's  a  lie,"  I  cried  hotly. 

"All  of  it?" 

"Every  word  of  it!" 

"Oh,  see  here,"  said  Terry.  "There  's  no 
use  in  your  trying  to  hide  things.  That  ac 
count  is  an  exaggeration  of  course,  but  it  must 
have  some  foundation.  You  told  me  you 
were  n't  afraid  of  the  truth.  Just  be  so  kind 
as  to  tell  it  to  me,  then.  Exactly  what  sort  of 
a  fellow  is  Radnor?  I  want  to  know  for  sev 
eral  reasons." 

"Well,  he  did  drink  a  good  deal  for  a 

12331 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

youngster,"  I  admitted,  "though  never  to  such 
an  extent  as  has  been  reported.  Of  late  he 
had  stopped  entirely.  As  for  gambling,  the 
young  men  around  here  have  got  into  a  bad 
way  of  playing  for  high  stakes,  but  during  the 
past  month  or  so  Rad  had  pulled  up  in  that 
too.  He  sometimes  backed  one  of  their  own 
horses  from  the  Gaylord  stables,  but  so  did  the 
Colonel;  it  's  the  regular  thing  in  Virginia. 
As  for  his  ever  having  been  disinherited,  that 
is  a  newspaper  story,  pure  and  simple.  I 
never  heard  anything  of  the  sort,  and  the 
neighborhood  has  told  me  pretty  much  all 
there  is  to  know  within  the  last  few  days." 

"His  father  never  turned  him  out  of  the 
house  then?" 

"Never  that  I  heard  of.  He  did  leave  home 
once  because  his  father  insulted  him,  but  he 
came  back  again." 

"That  was  forgiving,"  commented  Terry. 
"In  general,  though,  I  understand  that  the  re 
lations  between  the  two  were  rather  strained?" 

"At  times  they  were,"  I  admitted,  "but 
things  had  been  going  rather  better  for  the 
last  few  days." 

[284] 


"Until  the  night  before  the  murder.  They 
quarreled  then?  And  over  a  matter  of 
money?" 

"Yes.  Radnor  makes  no  secret  of  it.  He 
wanted  his  father  to  settle  something  on  him, 
and  upon  his  father's  refusal  some  words 
passed  between  them." 

"And  a  French  clock,"  suggested  Terry. 

I  acknowledged  the  clock  and  Terry  pon 
dered  the  question  with  one  eye  closed  medita 
tively. 

"Had  Radnor  ever  asked  for  anything  of 
the  sort  before?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of." 

"Why  did  he  ask  then?" 

"Well,  it  's  rather  galling  for  a  man  of  his 
age  to  be  dependent  on  his  father  for  every 
cent  he  gets.  The  Colonel  always  gave  him 
plenty,  but  he  did  not  want  to  take  it  in  that 
way." 

"In  just  what  way  did  he  want  to  take  it?" 
Terry  inquired.  "Since  he  was  so  infernally 
independent  why  did  n't  he  get  to  work  and 
earn  something?" 

"Earn   something!"    I    returned    sharply. 

[235] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Rad  has  managed  the  whole  plantation  for 
the  last  three  years.  His  father  was  getting 
too  old  for  business  and  if  Rad  had  n't  taken 
hold,  things  would  have  gone  to  the  deuce 
long  ago.  All  he  got  as  a  regular  salary  was 
fifty  dollars  a  month;  I  think  it  was  time  he 
was  paid  for  his  services." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  Terry  laughed.  "I  was 
merely  asking  the  question.  And  if  you  will 
allow  me  to  go  a  step  further,  why  did  Colonel 
Gaylord  object  to  settling  something  on  the 
boy?" 

"He  wanted  to  keep  him  under  his  thumb. 
The  Colonel  liked  to  rule,  and  he  wished 
everyone  around  him  to  be  dependent  on  his 
will." 

"I  see!"  said  Terry.  "Radnor  had  a  real 
grievance,  then,  after  all— just  one  thing 
more  on  this  point.  Why  did  he  choose  that 
particular  time  to  make  his  request  ?  You  say 
he  has  had  practical  charge  of  affairs  for  the 
past  three  years.  Why  did  he  not  wish  to  be 
independent  last  year?  Or  why  did  he  not 
postpone  the  desire  until  next  year?" 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

[236] 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

"You  '11  have  to  ask  Radnor  that."  I  had 
my  own  suspicions,  but  I  did  not  wish  to  drag 
Polly  Mathers's  name  into  the  discussion. 

Terry  watched  me  a  moment  without  say 
ing  anything,  and  then  he  too  shrugged  his 
shoulders  as  he  turned  back  to  the  newspaper 
clippings. 

"I  won't  go  into  the  matter  of  Radnor's 
connection  with  the  ha'nt  just  now;  I  should 
like  to  consider  first  his  actions  on  the  day  of 
the  murder.  I  have  here  a  report  of  the  testi 
mony  taken  at  the  inquest,  but  it  is  not  so  full 
as  I  could  wish  in  some  particulars.  I  should 
like  to  have  you  give  me  the  details.  First, 
you  say  that  Radnor  and  his  father  did  not 
speak  at  the  breakfast  table?  How  was  it 
when  you  started?" 

"They  both  appeared  to  be  in  pretty  good 
spirits,  but  I  noticed  that  they  avoided  each 
other." 

"Very  well,  tell  me  exactly  what  you  did 
after  you  arrived  at  Luray." 

"We  left  our  horses  at  the  hotel  and  walked 
about  a  mile  across  the  fields  to  the  mouth  of 
the  cave.  We  had  lunch  in  the  woods  and  at 

C237] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

about  one  o'clock  we  started  through  the  cave. 
We  came  out  at  a  little  after  three,  and,  I 
should  say,  started  to  drive  back  about  half 
past  four." 

"Did  you  notice  Radnor  through  the  day?" 

"Not  particularly." 

"Did  you  see  either  him  or  the  Colonel  in 
the  cave?" 

"Yes,  I  was  with  the  Colonel  most  of  the 
time." 

"And  how  about  Radnor?  Did  n't  you  see 
him  at  all?" 

"Oh,  yes.  I  remember  talking  to  him  once 
about  some  queerly  shaped  stalagmites.  He 
did  n't  hang  around  me,  naturally,  while  I  was 
with  his  father." 

"And  when  you  talked  to  him  about  the  sta 
lagmites — was  there  anyone  else  with  him  at 
the  time?" 

"I  believe  Miss  Mathers  was  there." 

"And  he  was  carrying  her  coat?" 

"I  did  n't  notice." 

"At  least  he  left  it  later  in  what  you  call  the 
gallery  of  the  broken  column?" 

"Yes." 

C238] 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

"I  see,"  said  Terry  glancing  over  the 
printed  report  of  the  inquest,  "that  the  coro 
ner  asked  at  this  point  if  Radnor  were  in  the 
habit  of  forgetting  young  ladies'  coats. 
That 's  more  pertinent  than  many  of  the  ques 
tions  he  asked.  How  about  it?  Was  he  in  the 
habit  of  forgetting  young  ladies'  coats?" 

"I  really  don't  know,  Terry,"  I  said  some 
what  testily. 

"It 's  a  pity  you  're  not  more  observing,"  he 
returned,  "for  it  's  important,  on  the  whole. 
But  never  mind.  I  '11  find  that  out  for  myself. 
Did  you  notice  when  he  left  the  rest  of  the 
party?" 

"No,  there  was  such  a  crowd  of  us  that  I 
did  n't  miss  him." 

"Very  well,  we  '11  have  a  look  at  his  testi 
mony.  He  left  the  rest  of  you  in  this  same 
gallery  of  the  broken  column,  went  straight 
out,  strolled  about  the  woods  for  half  an  hour 
or  so  and  then  returned  to  the  hotel.  I  fancy 
'strolled'  is  not  precisely  the  right  word,  but 
at  any  rate  it  's  the  word  he  uses.  Now  that 
half  hour  in  the  woods  is  an  unfortunate  cir 
cumstance.  Had  he  gone  directly  to  the  ho- 

H2393 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

tel  from  the  cave,  we  could  have  proved  an 
alibi  without  any  difficulty.  As  it  is,  he  had 
plenty  of  time  after  the  others  came  out  to  re 
member  that  he  had  forgotten  the  coat,  return 
for  it,  renew  the  quarrel  with  his  father,  and 
after  the  fatal  result  make  his  way  to  the  hotel 
while  the  rest  of  the  party  were  still  loitering 
in  the  woods." 

"Terry—"  I  began. 

He  waved  his  hand  in  a  gesture  of  dissent. 

"Oh,  I  'm  not  saying  that  's  what  did  hap 
pen.  I  'm  just  showing  you  that  the  district 
attorney's  theory  is  a  physical  possibility. 
Let  's  glance  at  the  landlord's  testimony  a 
moment.  When  Radnor  returned  for  his 
horse  he  appeared  angry,  excited  and  in  a 
hurry.  Those  are  the  landlord's  words,  and 
they  are  corroborated  by  the  stable  boy  and 
several  loungers  about  the  hotel. 

"He  was  in  a  hurry — why?  Because  he 
wished  to  get  away  before  the  others  came 
back.  He  had  suddenly  decided  while  he  was 
in  the  woods — probably  when  he  heard  them 
laughing  and  talking  as  they  came  out  of  the 
cave — that  he  did  not  wish  to  see  anyone.  He 

[240  ] 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

was  angry— mark  that.  All  of  the  witnesses 
agree  there,  and  I  think  that  his  actions  carry 
out  their  evidence.  He  drank  two  glasses  of 
brandy— by  the  way,  I  understood  you  to  say 
he  had  stopped  drinking.  He  ordered  the  sta 
ble  boy  about  sharply.  He  swore  at  him  for 
being  slow.  He  lashed  his  horse  quite  unnec 
essarily  as  he  galloped  off.  He  rode  home  at 
an  outrageous  rate.  And  he  was  not,  Solo 
mon  gives  me  to  understand,  in  the  habit  of 
maltreating  horses. 

"Now  what  do  you  make  of  all  this?  Here 
is  a  young  man  with  an  unexpended  lot  of 
temper  on  his  hands — bent  on  being  reckless; 
bent  on  being  just  as  bad  as  he  can  be. 
It  's  as  clear  as  daylight.  That  boy  never 
committed  any  crime.  A  man  who  had 
just  murdered  his  father  would  not  be 
filled  with  anger,  no  matter  what  the  prov 
ocation  had  been.  He  might  be  overcome 
with  horror,  fear,  remorse — a  dozen  different 
emotions,  but  anger  would  not  be  among 
them.  And  further,  a  man  who  had  commit 
ted  a  crime  and  intended  to  deny  it  later, 
would  not  proclaim  his  feelings  in  quite  that 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

blatant  manner.  Young  Gay  lord  had  not  in 
jured  anyone;  he  himself  had  been  injured. 
He  was  mad  through  and  through,  and  he 
did  n't  care  who  knew  it.  He  expended — you 
will  remember— the  most  of  his  belligerency 
on  his  horse  on  the  way  home,  and  you  found 
him  in  the  summer  house  undergoing  the  nat 
ural  reaction.  By  evening  he  had  got  himself 
well  in  hand  again  and  was  probably  consider 
ably  ashamed  of  his  conduct.  He  does  n't 
care  to  talk  about  the  matter  for  several  rea 
sons.  Fortunately  Solomon  is  not  so  scrupu 
lous." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  're  driving  at, 
Terry,"  said  I. 

"Don't  you?"  he  inquired.  "Well,  really, 
it  's  about  time  that  I  came  down!"  He 
paused  while  he  scrawled  one  or  two  sentences 
on  his  copy  pad,  then  he  glanced  up  with  a 
laugh.  "I  don't  know  myself,  but  I  think  I 
can  make  a  pretty  good  guess.  We  '11  call  on 
Miss  Polly  Mathers  in  the  morning  and  see  if 
she  can't  help  us  out." 

"Terry,"  I  expostulated,  "that  girl  knows 
no  more  about  the  matter  than  I  do.  She  has 

[242] 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

already  given  her  testimony,  and  I  positively 
will  not  have  her  name  mentioned  in  connec 
tion  with  the  affair." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  help  it,"  was  his 
cool  reply.  "If  she  's  in,  she  's  in,  and  I  'm  not 
to  blame.  However,  we  won't  quarrel  about 
it  now;  we  '11  pay  her  a  call  in  the  morning." 
He  ran  his  eyes  over  the  clippings  again,  then 
added,  "Ther,e  are  just  two  more  points  con 
necting  Radnor  Gaylord  with  the  murder  that 
need  explaining:  the  foot-prints  in  the  cave 
and  the  match  box.  The  foot-prints  I  will  dis 
miss  for  the  present  because  I  have  not  seen 
them  myself  and  I  can't  make  any  deductions 
from  hearsay  evidence.  But  the  question  of 
the  match  box  may  repay  a  little  investigation. 
I  want  you  to  tell  me  precisely  what  happened 
in  the  woods  before  you  went  into  the  cave. 
In  the  first  place,  how  many  older  people  were 
there  in  the  party?" 

"Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mathers,  a  lady  who  was 
visiting  them  and  Colonel  Gaylord." 

"There  were  two  servants,  I  understand, 
besides  this  Mose,  to  help  about  the  lunch. 
What  did  they  do?" 

[243] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Well,  I  don't  know  exactly.  I  was  n't 
paying  much  attention.  I  believe  they  car 
ried  things  over  from  the  hotel,  collected  wood 
for  the  fire,  and  then  went  to  a  farm  house  for 
water." 

"But  Mrs.  Mathers,  it  seems,  attended  to 
lighting  the  fire?" 

"Yes,  she  and  the  Colonel  made  the  fire  and 
started  the  coffee." 

"Ah!"  said  Terry  with  a  note  of  satisfac 
tion  in  his  voice.  "The  matter  begins  to  clear. 
Was  Colonel  Gaylord  in  the  habit  of  smok- 
ing?" 

"He  smoked  one  cigar  after  every  meal." 

"Never  any  more  than  that?" 

"No,  the  doctor  had  limited  him.  The  Col 
onel  grumbled  about  it  regularly,  and  always 
smoked  the  biggest  blackest  cigar  he  could 
find." 

"And  where  did  he  get  his  matches?" 

"Solomon  passed  the  brass  match  box  from 
the  dining-room  mantelpiece  just  as  he  passed 
it  to  us  to-night." 

"Colonel  Gaylord  was  not  in  the  habit  of 
carrying  matches  in  his  pockets  then?" 

£  24411 


THE  ABANDONED  CABINS 

"No,  I  think  not." 

"We  may  safely  assume,"  said  Terry,  "that 
in  this  matter  of  making  the  fire,  if  the  two 
were  working  together,  the  Colonel  was  on  his 
knees  arranging  the  sticks  while  Mrs.  Math 
ers  was  standing  by,  giving  directions.  That, 
I  believe,  is  the  usual  division  of  labor.  Well, 
then,  they  get  to  the  point  of  needing  a  light. 
The  Colonel  feels  through  his  pockets,  finds 
that  he  has  n't  a  match  and — what  happens?" 

"What  did  happen,"  I  broke  in,  "was  that 
Mrs.  Mathers  turned  to  a  group  of  us  who 
were  standing  talking  at  one  side,  and  asked 
if  any  of  us  had  a  match,  and  Rad  handed  her 
his  box.  That  is  the  last  anyone  remembers 
about  it." 

"Exactly!"  said  Terry.  "And  I  think  I 
can  tell  you  the  rest.  You  can  see  for  your 
self  what  took  place.  Mrs.  Mathers  went 
back  to  the  spot  where  they  were  building  the 
fire,  and  the  Colonel  took  the  match  box  from 
her.  No  man  is  ever  going  to  stand  by  and 
watch  a  woman  strike  a  match — he  can  do  it 
so  much  better  himself.  At  this  point,  Mrs. 
Mathers — by  her  own  testimony— was  called 

[245] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

away,  and  she  does  n't  remember  anything 
further  about  the  box.  She  thinks  that  she  re 
turned  it.  Why?  For  no  reason  on  earth  ex 
cept  that  she  usually  returns  things.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  however,  she  did  n't  do  it  this 
time.  She  was  called  away  and  the  Colonel 
was  left  to  light  the  fire  alone.  He  recog 
nized  the  box  as  his  son's  and  he  dropped  it 
into  his  pocket.  At  another  time  perhaps  he 
would  have  walked  over  and  handed  it  back; 
but  not  then.  The  two  were  not  speaking  to 
each  other.  Later,  at  the  time  of  the  struggle 
in  the  cave,  the  box  fell  from  the  old  man's 
pocket,  and  formed  a  most  damaging  piece  of 
circumstantial  evidence  against  his  son. 

"On  the  whole,"  Terry  finished,  "I  do  not 
think  we  shall  have  a  very  difficult  time  in 
clearing  Radnor.  I  had  arrived  at  my  own 
conclusions  concerning  him  from  reading  the 
papers ;  what  extra  data  I  needed,  I  managed 
to  glean  from  Solomon's  lies.  And  as  for 
you,"  he  added,  gazing  across  at  me  with  an 
imperturbable  grin,  "I  think  you  were  wise  in 
deciding  to  be  a  corporation  lawyer." 

[246] 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

TERRY  ARRIVES  AT  A  CONCLUSION 

A~T)  now,"  said  Terry,  lighting  a  fresh 
cigar,  and  after  a  few  preliminary 
puffs,  settling  down  to  work  again, 
"we  will  consider  the  case  of  Cat-Eye  Mose— 
a  beautiful  name,  by  the  way,  and  apparently 
a  beautiful  character.     It  won't  be  my  fault 
if  we  don't  make  a  beautiful  story  out  of  him. 
You,  yourself,  I  believe,  hold  the  opinion  that 
he  committed  the  murder?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  I  cried. 

"In  that  case,"  laughed  Terry,  "I  should  be 
inclined  to  think  him  innocent." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders.  There  was  noth 
ing  to  be  gained  by  getting  angry.  If  Terry 
chose  to  regard  the  solving  of  a  murder  mys 
tery  in  the  light  of  a  joke,  I  had  nothing  to 
say ;  though  I  did  think  he  might  have  realized 
that  to  me,  at  least,  it  was  a  serious  matter. 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"And  you  base  your  suspicions,  do  you  not, 
upon  the  fact  that  he  has  queer  eyes?" 

"Not  entirely." 

"Upon  what  then?" 

"Upon  the  fact  that  he  took  part  in  the 
struggle  which  ended  in  my  uncle's  death." 

"Well,  certainly,  that  does  seem  rather  con 
clusive — there  is  no  mistake  about  the  foot 
prints?" 

"None  whatever ;  the  Mathers  niggers  both 
wore  shoes,  and  anyway  they  did  n't  go  into 
the  cave." 

"In  that  case  I  suppose  it  's  fair  to  assume 
that  Mose  took  part  in  the  struggle.  Whether 
he  was  the  only  man  or  whether  there  was  still 
a  third,  the  cave  itself  ought  to  tell  a  pretty 
clear  story." 

Terry  rose  and  paced  up  and  down  the 
room  once  or  twice,  and  then  came  back  and 
picked  up  one  of  the  newspaper  clippings. 

"It  says  here  that  the  boot  marks  of  two 
different  men  are  visible." 

"That  's  the  sheriff's  opinion,"  I  replied. 
"Though  I  myself,  can't  make  out  anything 
but  the  marks  of  Mose  and  the  Colonel.  I  ex- 

[2481] 


TERRY'S  CONCLUSION 

amined  everything  carefully,  but  it 's  awfully 
mixed  up,  you  know.  One  really  can't  tell 
much  about  it." 

Terry  impatiently  flung  himself  into  the 
chair  again. 

"I  ought  to  have  come  down  last  week!  If 
I  had  supposed  you  people  could  muddle  mat 
ters  up  so  thoroughly  I  should.  I  dare  say 
you  Ve  trampled  the  whole  place  over  till 
there  is  n't  one  of  the  original  marks  left." 

"Look  here,  Terry,"  I  said.  "You  act  as  if 
Virginia  belonged  to  you.  We  Ve  all  been 
working  our  heads  off  over  this  business,  and 
you  come  in  at  the  last  moment  and  quarrel 
with  our  data.  You  can  go  over  tomorrow 
morning  and  collect  your  own  evidence  if  you 
think  it  's  so  far  superior  to  anyone  else's. 
The  marks  are  just  as  they  were.  Boards 
have  been  laid  over  them  and  nothing  's  been 
disturbed." 

"You  're  rather  done  up,  old  man,"  Terry 
remarked,  smiling  across  at  me  good-humor- 
edly.  "Of  course  it  's  quite  on  the  cards  that 
Cat-Eye  Mose  committed  the  crime — but 
there  are  a  number  of  objections.  As  I  un- 

[249] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

derstand  it,  he  has  the  reputation  of  being  a 
harmless,  peaceable  fellow  not  very  bright  but 
always  good-natured.  He  never  resented  an 
injury,  was  never  known  to  quarrel  with  any 
one,  took  what  was  given  him  and  said  thank 
you.  He  loved  Colonel  Gaylord  and  watched 
over  his  interests  as  jealously  as  a  dog.  Well 
now,  is  a  man  who  has  had  this  reputation  all 
his  life,  a  man  whom  everybody  trusts,  very 
likely  to  go  off  the  hook  as  suddenly  as  that 
and — with  no  conceivable  motive — brutally 
kill  the  master  he  has  served  so  faithfully  ?  A 
man's  future  is  in  a  large  measure  determined 
by  his  past." 

"That  may  all  be  true  enough,"  I  said,  "but 
it  is  very  possible  that  people  were  deceived  in 
Mose.  I  have  been  suspicious  of  him  from  the 
moment  I  laid  eyes  on  him.  You  may  think 
it  unfair  to  judge  a  man  from  his  physical  ap 
pearance,  but  I  wish  you  could  once  see  Cat- 
Eye  Mose  yourself,  and  you  would  know 
what  I  mean.  The  people  around  here  are 
used  to  him  and  don't  notice  it  so  much,  but  his 
eyes  are  yellow — positively  yellow,  and  they 
narrow  in  the  light  just  like  a  cat's.  One 

C250] 


TERRY'S  CONCLUSION 

night  he  drove  Radnor  and  me  home  from  a 
party,  and  I  could  actually  see  his  eyes  shin 
ing  in  the  dark.  It 's  the  most  gruesome  thing 
I  ever  saw;  and  take  that  on  top  of  his  hab 
its—he  carries  snakes  around  in  the  front 
of  his  shirt— really,  one  suspects  him  of  any 
thing." 

"I  hope  he  is  n't  dead,"  Terry  murmured 
wistfully.  "I  'd  like  a  personal  interview." 

He  sat  sunk  down  in  his  chair  for  several 
minutes  intently  examining  the  end  of  his 
fountain  pen. 

"Well,"  he  said  rousing  himself,  "it  's  time 
we  had  a  shy  at  the  ghost.  We  must  find  out 
in  what  way  Radnor  and  Mose  were  con 
nected  with  him,  and  in  what  way  he  was  con 
nected  with  the  robbery.  Radnor  could  help 
us  considerably  if  he  would  only  talk — the 
fact  that  he  won't  talk  is  very  suggestive. 
We  '11  get  at  the  truth  without  him,  though. 
Suppose  you  begin  and  tell  me  everything 
from  the  first  appearance  of  the  ha'nt.  I 
should  like  to  get  him  tabulated." 

"The  first  definite  thing  that  reached  the 
house,"  I  replied,  "was  the  night  of  my  ar- 

[251  ] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

rival  when  the  roast  chicken  was  stolen — I  Ve 
told  you  that  in  detail." 

"And  it  was  that  same  night  that  Aunt 
What-Ever-Her-Name-Is  saw  the  ghost  in 
the  laurel  walk?" 

I  nodded. 

"Did  she  say  what  it  looked  like?" 

"It  was  white." 

"And  when  you  searched  the  cabins  did  you 
go  into  the  one  where  the  grain  is  stored?" 

"No,  Mose  dropped  his  torch  at  the  en 
trance.  And  anyway  Rad  said  there  was  no 
use  in  searching  it;  it  was  already  full  to  the 
brim  with  sacks  of  corn  meal." 

"Do  you  think  that  Radnor  was  trying  to 
divert  you  from  the  scene?" 

"No,  I  am  sure  he  had  n't  a  suspicion  him 
self." 

"And  what  did  the  thing  look  like  that  you 
saw  Mose  carrying  to  the  cabins  in  the  night?" 

"It  seemed  to  be  a  large  black  bundle.  I 
have  thought  since  that  it  might  have  been 
clothes  or  blankets  or  something  of  that  sort." 

"So  much  for  the  first  night,"  said  Terry. 
"Now,  how  soon  did  the  ghost  appear  again?" 

"Various  things  were  stolen  after  that,  and 


TERRY'S  CONCLUSION 

the  servants  attributed  it  to  the  ha'nt,  but  the 
first  direct  knowledge  I  had  was  the  night  of 
the  party  when  Radnor  acted  so  strangely.  I 
told  you  of  his  going  back  in  the  night." 

"He  was  carrying  something  too?" 

"Yes,  he  had  a  black  bundle — it  might  have 
been  clothes." 

"And  after  that  he  and  Mose  were  in  con 
stant  consultation?" 

"Yes — they  both  encouraged  the  belief  in 
the  ha'nt  among  the  negroes  and  did  their  best 
to  keep  everyone  away  from  the  laurel  walk. 
I  overheard  Mose  several  times  telling  stories 
to  the  other  negroes  about  the  terrible  things 
the  ha'nt  would  do  if  it  caught  them." 

"And  he  himself  did  n't  show  any  fear  over 
the  stories?" 

"Not  the  slightest— appeared  rather  to  en 
joy  them." 

"And  Radnor — how  did  he  take  the  mat 
ter?" 

"He  was  moody  and  irritable.  I  could  see 
that  something  was  preying  on  his  mind." 

"How  did  you  explain  the  matter  to  your 
self?" 

"I  was  afraid  he  had  fallen  into  the  clutches 

C2533 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

of  someone  who  was  threatening  him,  possibly 
levying  blackmail." 

"But  you  did  n't  make  any  attempt  to  dis 
cover  the  truth?" 

"Well,  it  was  Rad's  own  affair,  and  I 
did  n't  want  the  appearance  of  spying.  I  did 
keep  my  eyes  open  as  much  as  I  could." 

"And  the  Colonel,  how  did  he  take  all  this 
excitement  about  the  ha'nt?" 

"It  bothered  him  considerably,  but  Rad 
kept  him  from  hearing  it  as  much  as  he 
could." 

"When  did  the  ha'nt  appear  again  after  the 
party?" 

"Oh,  by  that  time  all  sorts  of  rumors  were 
running  about  among  the  negroes.  The 
whole  place  was  haunted  and  several  of  the 
plantation  hands  had  left.  But  the  next  thing 
that  we  heard  directly  was  in  the  early  even 
ing  before  the  robbery  when  Mose,  appearing 
terribly  frightened,  said  he  had  seen  the  ha'nt 
rising  in  a  cloud  of  blue  smoke  out  of  the 
spring-hole." 

"And  how  did  the  Colonel  and  Radnor  take 
this?" 

[254  ] 


TERRY'S  CONCLUSION 

"The  Colonel  was  angry  because  he  had 
been  bragging  about  Mose  not  being  afraid, 
and  Rad  was  dazed.  He  did  n't  know  what  to 
think ;  he  hustled  Mose  out  of  the  way  before 
we  could  ask  any  questions." 

"And  what  did  you  think?" 

"Well,  I  fancied  at  the  time  that  he  had 
really  seen  something,  but  as  I  thought  it  over 
in  the  light  of  later  events  I  came  to  the  con 
clusion  that  he  was  shamming,  both  then  and 
in  the  middle  of  the  night  when  he  roused  the 
house." 

"That  is,  you  wished  to  think  him  sham 
ming,  in  order  to  prove  his  complicity  in  the 
robbery  and  the  murder;  and  so  you  twisted 
the  facts  to  suit  your  theory?" 

"I  don't  think  you  can  say  that,"  I  returned 
somewhat  hotly.  "It  's  merely  a  question  of 
interpreting  the  facts." 

"He  did  n't  gain  much  by  raising  all  that 
hulabaloo  in  the  middle  of  the  night." 

"Why  yes,  that  was  done  in  order  to  throw 
suspicion  on  the  ha'nt." 

"Oh,  I  see!"  laughed  Terry.  "Well,  now, 
let's  get  to  the  end  of  this  matter.  Was 

£255] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

any    more    seen    of    the    ha'nt    after    that 
night?" 

"No,  at  least  not  directly.  For  five  or  six 
days  everyone  was  so  taken  up  with  the  rob 
bery  that  the  ha'nt  excitement  rather  died 
down.  Then  I  believe  there  were  some  ru 
mors  among  the  negroes  but  nothing  much 
reached  the  house." 

"And  since  the  murder  nothing  whatever 
has  been  seen  of  the  ha'nt?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"Just  give  me  a  list  of  the  things  that  were 
stolen." 

"Well,  the  roast  chicken,  a  box  of  cigars, 
some  shirts  off  the  line,  a  suit  of  Rad's  paja 
mas,  a  French  novel,  some  brandy,  quite  a  lot 
of  things  to  eat — fresh  loaves  of  bread,  pre 
serves,  a  boiled  ham,  sugar,  coffee— oh,  any 
amount  of  stuff!  The  niggers  simply  helped 
themselves  and  laid  it  to  the  ha'nt.  One  of 
the  carriages  was  left  out  one  night,  and  in 
the  morning  the  cushions  were  gone  and  two 
lap  robes.  At  the  same  time  a  water  pail  was 
taken  and  a  pair  of  Jake's  overalls.  And  then 
to  end  up  came  the  robbery  of  the  safe." 
C256-] 


TERRY'S  CONCLUSION 

"The  ha'nt  had  catholic  tastes.  Any  of  the 
things  turned  up  since?" 

"Yes,  a  number  of  things,  such  as  blankets 
and  clothes  and  dishes  have  gradually  drifted 
back." 

"The  carriage  cushions  and  lap  robes— ever 
find  them?" 

"Never  a  trace — and  why  anyone  should 
want  'em,  I  don't  know!" 

"What  color  were  the  lap  robes?" 

"Plain  black  broadcloth." 

Terry  got  up  and  paced  about  a  few  mo 
ments  and  then  came  back  and  sat  down. 

"One  thing  is  clear,"  he  said,  "there  are  two 
ha'nts." 

"Twoha'nts!    What  do  you  mean?" 

"Just  what  I  say.  Suppose  for  conve 
nience  we  call  them  ha'nt  number  one,  and 
ha'nt  number  two.  Number  one  occupied 
apartments  over  the  grain  bin  and  haunted  the 
laurel  walk.  He  was  white— I  don't  wonder 
at  that  if  he  spent  much  time  crawling  over 
those  flour  sacks.  He  smoked  cigars  and  read 
French  novels ;  Mose  waited  on  him  and  Rad 
nor  knew  about  him— and  did  n't  get  much 

17  [257] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

enjoyment  out  of  the  knowledge.  It  took 
money  to  get  rid  of  him — a  hundred  dollars 
down  and  the  promise  of  more  to  come.  Rad 
nor  himself  drove  him  off  in  the  carriage  the 
night  he  left,  and  Mose  obliterated  all  traces 
of  his  presence.  So  much  for  number  one. 

"As  for  number  two,  he  appeared  three  or 
four  days  before  the  robbery  and  haunted 
pretty  much  the  whole  place,  especially  the  re 
gion  of  the  spring-hole.  In  appearance  he 
was  nine  feet  tall,  transparent,  and  black. 
Smoke  came  from  his  mouth  and  blue  flames 
from  his  eyes.  There  was  a  sulphurous  odor 
about  him.  He  was  first  seen  rising  out  of  the 
spring-hole,  and  there  is  a  passage  in  the 
bottom  of  the  spring-hole  that  leads  straight 
down  to  hell.  Solomon  is  my  authority. 

"I  asked  him  how  he  explained  the  appari 
tion  and  he  reckoned  it  was  the  ghost  of  the 
slave  who  was  beaten  to  death,  and  that  since 
his  old  master  had  come  back  to  haunt  the  lau 
rel  walk,  he  had  come  back  to  haunt  his  old 
master.  That  sounds  to  me  like  a  plausible 
explanation.  As  soon  as  it  's  light  I  '11  have 
a  look  at  the  spring-hole." 

[258;] 


TERRY'S  CONCLUSION 

"Terry,"  I  said  disgustedly,  "that  may 
make  a  very  picturesque  newspaper  story,  but 
it  does  n't  help  much  in  unravelling  the  mys 
tery." 

"It  helps  a  good  deal.  I  would  not  like  to 
swear  to  the  flames  or  sulphur  or  the  passage 
down  to  hell,  but  the  fact  that  he  was  tall  and 
black  and  comes  from  the  spring-hole  is  sig 
nificant.  He  was  black — mark  that — so  were 
the  stolen  lap  robes. 

"Now  you  see  how  the  matter  stands  on  the 
night  of  the  robbery.  While  ghost  number 
one  was  out  driving  with  Radnor,  ghost  num 
ber  two  entered  the  house  through  the  open 
library  window,  found  the  safe  ajar  and 
helped  himself.  Let  's  consider  what  he  took 
—five  thousand  dollars  in  government  bonds, 
two  deeds,  an  insurance  policy,  and  a  quart  of 
small  change— a  very  suggestive  lot  of  loot  if 
you  think  about  it  enough.  After  the  robbery 
he  disappeared,  nothing  seen  of  him  for  five 
or  six  days ;  then  he  turned  up  again  for  a  day 
or  so,  and  finally  disappeared  forever.  So 
much  for  ha'nt  number  two.  He  's  the  party 
we  're  after.  He  pretty  certainly  robbed  the 

C259H 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

safe  and  he  possibly  committed  the  murder— 
as  to  that  I  won't  have  any  proof  until  I  see 
the  cave." 

He  stretched  his  arms  with  a  laugh. 

"Oh,  this  is  n't  so  bad !  All  we  've  got  to  do 
now  is  to  identify  those  two  ghosts." 

"I  'm  glad  if  you  think  it 's  so  easy,"  I  said 
somewhat  sullenly.  "But  I  will  tell  you  one 
thing,  if  you  go  to  basing  any  deductions  on 
Solomon's  stories  you  '11  find  yourself  bump 
ing  against  a  stone  wall." 

"We  '11  have  Rad  over  to  dinner  with  us  to 
morrow  night,"  Terry  declared. 

He  rose  and  pulled  out  his  watch. 

"It  's  a  quarter  before  ten.  I  think  it  's 
time  you  went  to  bed.  You  look  about  played 
out.  You  have  n't  been  sleeping  much  of 
late?" 

"No,  I  can't  say  that  I  have." 

"I  ought  to  have  come  down  at  once,"  said 
Terry,  "but  I  'm  always  so  blamed  afraid  of 
hurting  people's  feelings." 

I  stared  slightly.  I  had  never  considered 
that  one  of  Terry's  weak  points,  but  as  he 
seemed  to  be  quite  in  earnest,  I  let  the  remark 
pass. 

"Do  you  think  I  could  knock  up  one  of  the 

C260] 


stable-men  to  drive  me  to  the  village  ?  I  know 
it  's  pretty  late  but  I  Ve  got  to  send  a  couple 
of  telegrams." 

"Telegrams?"  I  demanded.    "Where  to?" 

Terry  laughed. 

"Well,  I  must  send  a  word  to  the  Post -Dis 
patch  to  the  effect  that  the  Luray  mystery 
grows  more  mysterious  every  hour.  That  the 
police  have  been  wasting  their  energies  on  the 
wrong  scent,  but  that  the  Post-Dispatch's 
special  correspondent  has  arrived  on  the  scene, 
and  that  we  may  accordingly  look  for  a 
speedy  solution." 

"What  is  the  second  one?"  I  asked. 

"To  your  friend,  the  police  commissioner 
of  Seattle." 

"You  don't  think  that  Jeff—  ?" 

"My  dear  fellow,  I  don't  think,  unless  I 
have  facts  to  think  about. — Don't  look  so  ner 
vous;  I  'm  not  accusing  him  of  anything.  I 
merely  want  more  details  than  you  got;  I  'm 
a  newspaper  man,  remember,  and  I  like  local 
color  even  in  telegrams.  And  now,  go  to 
bed ;  and  for  heaven's  sake,  go  to  sleep.  The 
case  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Post-Dispatch's 
young  man,  and  you  need  n't  worry  any 
more." 

£261] 


CHAPTER  XIX 

TERRY  FINDS  THE  BONDS 

I  WAS  wakened  the  next  morning  by  Terry 
clumping  into  my  room  dressed  in  riding 
breeches  and  boots  freshly  spattered  with 
mud. 

They  were  Radnor's  clothes — Terry  had 
taken  me  at  my  word  and  was  thoroughly  at 
home. 

"Hello,  old  man!"  he  said,  sitting  down  on 
the  edge  of  the  bed.  "Been  asleep,  have  n't 
you?  Sorry  to  wake  you,  but  we  Ve  got  a 
day's  work  ahead.  Hope  you  don't  mind  my 
borrowing  Radnor's  togs.  Did  n't  come  down 
prepared  for  riding.  Solomon  gave  'em  to 
me — seemed  to  think  that  Radnor  would  n't 
need  'em  any  more.  Oh,  Solomon  and  I  are 
great  friends!"  he  added  with  a  laugh,  as  he 
suddenly  appeared  to  remember  the  object  of 
his  visit  and  commenced  a  search  through  his 
pockets. 

C262] 


TERRY  FINDS  THE  BONDS 

I  sat  up  in  bed  and  watched  him  impa 
tiently.  It  was  evident  that  he  had  some  news, 
and  equally  evident  that  he  was  going  to  be  as 
leisurely  as  possible  about  imparting  it. 

"This  is  a  pretty  country,"  he  remarked  as 
he  finished  with  his  coat  pockets  and  com 
menced  on  the  waistcoat.  "It  would  be  al 
most  worth  living  in  if  many  little  an0 airs  like 
this  occurred  to  keep  things  going." 

"Really,  Terry,"  I  said,  "when  you  refer  to 
my  uncle's  murder  as  a  'little  affair'  I  think 
you  're  going  too  far!" 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  returned 
good-naturedly,  "I  guess  I  am  incorrigible.  I 
did  n't  know  Colonel  Gaylord  personally,  you 
see,  and  I  'm  so  used  to  murders  that  I  Ve 
come  to  think  it  's  the  only  natural  way  of 
dying.  Anyhow,"  he  added,  as  he  finally  pro 
duced  a  yellow  envelope,  "I  Ve  got  something 
here  that  will  interest  you.  It  explains  why 
our  young  friend  Radnor  did  n't  want  to 
talk." 

He  tossed  the  envelope  on  the  bed  and  I  ea 
gerly  tore  out  the  telegram.  It  was  from  the 
police  commissioner  in  Seattle  and  it  ran: 

[263] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Jefferson  Gaylord  returned  Seattle  May 
fifth  after  absence  six  weeks.  Said  to  have 
visited  old  home  Virginia.  Had  been  wanted 
by  police.  Suspected  implication  in  case  ob 
taining  money  false  pretences.  Mistaken 
charge.  Case  dismissed." 

"What  does  it  mean?"  I  asked. 

"It  means,"  said  Terry,  "that  we  've  spot 
ted  ghost  number  one.  It  was  clear  from  the 
first  that  Radnor  was  trying  to  shield  some 
one,  even  at  the  expense  of  his  own  reputa 
tion.  Leaving  women  out  of  the  case,  that 
pointed  pretty  straight  toward  his  elder  bro 
ther.  Part  of  your  theory  was  correct,  the 
only  trouble  being  that  you  carried  it  too  far. 
You  made  Jeff  commit  both  the  robbery  and 
the  murder,  while  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  did 
neither.  Then  when  you  found  a  part  of 
your  theory  was  untenable  you  rejected  the 
whole  of  it. 

"This  is  how  the  matter  stood:  Jeff  Gay- 
lord  was  pretty  desperately  in  need  of  money. 
I  suspect  that  the  charge  against  him,  what 
ever  it  was,  was  true.  The  money  he  had  taken 


had  to  be  returned  and  somebody's  silence 
bought  before  the  thing  could  be  hushed  up. 
Anyway,  Seattle  was  too  hot  to  hold  him  and 
he  lit  out  and  came  East.  He  applied  to  Rad 
nor,  but  Radnor  was  in  a  tight  place  himself 
and  could  n't  lay  his  hands  on  anything  ex 
cept  what  his  father  had  given  him  for  a  birth 
day  present.  That  was  tied  up  in  another  in 
vestment  and  if  he  converted  it  into  cash  it 
would  be  at  a  sacrifice.  So  it  ran  along  for  a 
week  or  so,  while  Rad  was  casting  about  for  a 
means  of  getting  his  brother  out  of  the  way 
without  any  fresh  scandal.  But  Mose's  sud 
denly  taking  to  seeing  ha'nts  precipitated 
matters.  Realizing  that  his  father's  patience 
had  reached  its  limit,  and  that  he  could  n't 
keep  you  off  the  scent  much  longer,  he  deter 
mined  to  borrow  the  money  for  Jeff's  journey 
back  to  Seattle,  and  to  close  up  his  own  in 
vestment. 

"That  same  night  he  drove  Jeff  to  the  sta 
tion  at  Kennisburg.  The  Washington  ex 
press  does  not  stop  at  Lambert  Junction,  and 
anyway  Kennisburg  is  a  bigger  station  and 
travellers  excite  less  comment.  This  is  n't  de- 

[265] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

duction ;  it  's  fact.  I  rode  to  Kennisburg  this 
morning  and  proved  it.  The  station  man  re 
members  selling  Radnor  Gaylord  a  ticket  to 
Washington  in  the  middle  of  the  night  about 
three  weeks  ago.  Some  man  who  waited  out 
side  and  whose  face  the  agent  did  not  see, 
boarded  the  train,  and  Rad  drove  off  alone. 
The  ticket  seller  does  not  know  Rad  person 
ally  but  he  knows  him  by  sight— so  much  for 
that.  Rad  came  home  and  went  to  bed. 
When  he  came  down  stairs  in  the  morning  he 
was  met  by  the  information  that  the  ha'nt  had 
robbed  the  safe.  You  can  see  what  instantly 
jumped  into  his  mind — some  way,  somehow, 
Jeff  had  taken  those  bonds— and  yet  figure  on 
it  as  he  might,  he  could  not  see  how  it  was  pos 
sible.  The  robbery  seemed  to  have  occurred 
while  he  was  away.  Could  Jeff  merely  have 
pretended  to  leave?  Might  he  have  slipped 
off  the  train  again  and  come  back  ?  Those  are 
the  questions  that  were  bothering  Radnor. 
He  was  honest  in  saying  that  he  could  not  im 
agine  how  the  bonds  had  been  stolen,  and  yet 
he  was  also  honest  in  not  wanting  to  know  the 
truth." 

C266] 


TERRY  FINDS  THE  BONDS 


might  have  confided  in  me,"  I  said. 

"It  would  have  been  a  good  deal  better  if  he 
had.  But  in  order  to  understand  Rad's  point 
of  view,  you  must  take  into  account  Jeff's 
character.  He  appears  to  have  been  a  reck 
less,  dashing,  headstrong,  but  exceedingly 
attractive  fellow.  His  father  put  up  with  his 
excesses  for  six  years  before  the  final  quarrel. 
Cat-Eye  Mose,  so  old  Jake  tells  me,  moped 
for  months  after  his  disappearance.  Rad,  as 
a  little  fellow,  worshipped  his  bad  but  charm 
ing  brother.  —  There  you  have  it.  Jeff  turns 
up  again  with  a  hard  luck  story,  and  Mose 
and  Radnor  both  go  back  to  their  old  allegi 
ance. 

"Jeff  is  in  a  bad  hole,  a  fugitive  from  jus 
tice  with  the  penitentiary  waiting  for  him. 
He  confesses  the  whole  thing  to  Radnor  —  ex 
tenuating  circumstances  plausibly  to  the  fore. 
He  has  been  dishonest,  but  unintentionally  so. 
He  wishes  to  straighten  up  and  lead  a  respec 
table  life.  If  he  had,  say  fifteen  hundred  dol 
lars,  he  could  quash  the  indictment  against 
him.  He  is  Radnor's  brother  and  the  Colo 
nel's  son,  but  Rad  is  to  receive  a  fortune  while 

C267] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

he  is  to  be  disinherited.  The  money  he  asks 
now  is  only  his  right.  If  he  receives  it  he  will 
disappear  and  trouble  Rad  no  more.  — That,  I 
fancy,  is  the  line  of  argument  our  returned 
prodigal  used.  Anyway,  he  won  Rad  over. 
Radnor  was  thinking  of  getting  married,  had 
plenty  of  use  for  all  the  money  he  could  lay 
his  hands  on,  but  he  seems  to  be  a  generous 
chap,  and  he  sacrificed  himself. 

"For  obvious  reasons  Jeff  wished  his  pres 
ence  kept  a  secret,  and  Rad  and  Mose  respec 
ted  his  wishes.  After  the  robbery  Radnor  was 
too  sick  at  the  thought  that  his  brother  may 
have  betrayed  him,  to  want  to  do  anything  but 
hush  the  matter  up.  At  the  news  of  the  mur 
der  he  did  not  know  what  to  think;  he  would 
not  believe  Jeff  guilty,  and  yet  he  did  not  see 
any  other  way  out." 

Terry  paused  a  moment  and  leaned  for 
ward  with  an  excited  gleam  in  his  eye. 

"That,"  he  said,  "is  the  whole  truth  about 
ghost  number  one.  Our  business  now  is  to 
track  down  number  two,  and  here,  as  a  starter 
are  the  missing  bonds." 

[268] 


TERRY  FINDS  THE  BONDS 

He  tossed  a  pile  of  mildewed  papers  on  the 
bed  and  met  my  astonishment  with  a  trium 
phant  chuckle. 

It  was  true— all  five  of  the  missing  bonds 
were  there,  the  May  first  coupons  still  uncut. 
Also  the  deeds  and  insurance  policy,  exactly 
as  they  had  left  the  safe,  except  that  they  were 
damp  and  mud-stained. 

I  stared  for  a  moment  too  amazed  to  speak. 
Finally,  "Where  did  you  find  them?"  I 
gasped. 

Terry  regarded  me  with  a  tantalizing 
laugh. 

"Exactly  where  I  thought  I  'd  find  them. 
Oh,  I  Ve  been  out  early  this  morning !  I  saw 
the  sun  rise,  and  breakfasted  in  Kennisburg 
at  six  forty-five.  I  'm  ready  for  another 
breakfast  though.  Hurry  up  and  dress. 
We  Ve  got  a  day's  work  before  us.  I  'm  off 
to  the  stables  to  talk  'horses'  with  Uncle  Jake ; 
when  you  're  ready  for  breakfast  send  Solo 
mon  after  me." 

"Terry,"  I  implored,  "where  on  the  face  of 
the  earth  did  you  find  those  bonds?" 

C269H 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"At  the  mouth  of  the  passage  to  hell," 
said  Terry  gravely,  "but  I  'm  not  quite  sure 
myself  who  put  them  there.'' 

"Mose?"  I  queried  eagerly. 

"It  might  have  been — and  it  might  not." 
He  waved  his  hand  airily  and  withdrew. 


C2703 


CHAPTER  XX 

POLLY  MAKES  A  CONFESSION 

A  breakfast  Terry  drank  two  cups  of 
coffee  and  subsided  into  thought.     I 
could  get  no  more  from  him  on  the 
subject  of  the  bonds;  he  was  not  sure  himself, 
was  all  the  satisfaction  he  would  give.  When 
the  meal  was  half  over,  to  Solomon's  dismay, 
he  suddenly  rose  without  noticing  a  new  dish 
of  chicken  livers  that  had  just  appeared  at  his 
elbow. 

"Come  on,"  he  said  impatiently,  "you  Ve 
had  enough  to  eat.  I  Ve  got  to  see  those 
marks  while  they  're  still  there.  I  'm  desper 
ately  afraid  an  earthquake  will  swallow  that 
cave  before  I  get  a  chance  at  them." 

Fifteen  minutes  later  we  were  bowling 
down  the  lane  behind  the  fastest  pair  of 
horses  in  the  Gaylord  stables,  and  through  the 
prettiest  country  in  the  State  of  Virginia. 
Terry  sat  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  his 

C271] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

eyes  on  the  dash-board.  As  we  came  to  the 
four  corners  at  the  valley-pike  I  reined  in. 

"Would  you  rather  go  the  short  way  over 
the  mountains  by  a  very  rough  road,  or  the 
long  way  through  Kennisburg?"  I  inquired. 

"What  's  that?"  he  asked.  "Oh,  the  short 
way  by  all  means — but  first  I  want  to  call  at 
the  Mathers's." 

"It  would  simply  be  a  waste  of  time." 

"It  won't  take  long — and  since  Radnor 
won't  talk  I  've  got  to  get  at  the  facts  from 
the  other  end.  Besides,  I  want  to  see  Polly 
myself." 

"Miss  Mathers  knows  nothing  about  the 
matter,"  said  I  as  stiffly  as  possible. 

"Does  n't  she!"  said  Terry.  "She  knows  a 
good  many  things,  and  it 's  about  time  she  told 
them. — At  any  rate,  you  must  admit  that 
she  's  the  owner  of  the  unfortunate  coat  that 
caused  the  trouble;  I  want  to  ask  her  some 
questions  about  that.  Why  can't  girls  learn 
to  carry  their  own  coats  ?  It  would  save  a  lot 
of  trouble." 

It  ended  by  my  driving,  with  a  very  bad 
grace,  to  Mathers  Hall. 

[272] 


POLLY  MAKES  A  CONFESSION 

"You  wait  here  until  I  come  out,"  said 
Terry,  coolly,  as  I  drew  up  by  the  stepping 
stone  and  commenced  fumbling  for  a  hitching 
strap. 

"Not  much!"  said  I.  "If  you  interview 
Polly  Mathers  I  shall  be  present  at  the  inter 
view." 

"Oh,  very  well!"  he  returned  resignedly. 
"If  you  'd  let  me  go  about  it  my  own  way, 
though,  I  'd  get  twice  as  much  out  of  her." 

The  family  were  at  breakfast,  the  servant 
informed  me.  I  left  Terry  in  the  parlor  while 
I  went  on  to  the  dining-room  to  explain  the 
object  of  our  visit. 

"There  is  a  friend  of  mine  here  from  New 
York  to  help  us  about  the  trial" — I  thought  it 
best  to  suppress  his  real  profession — "and  he 
wants  to  interview  Miss  Polly  in  regard  to  the 
coat.  I  am  very  sorry— 

"Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Mathers,  "Polly 
is  only  too  glad  to  help  in  any  way  possi 
ble."  * 

And  to  my  chagrin  Polly  excused  herself 
and  withdrew  to  the  parlor,  while  her  father 
kept  me  listening  to  a  new  and  not  very  val- 

18  [273] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

liable  theory  of  his  in  regard  to  the  disap 
pearance  of  Mose.  It  was  fifteen  minutes  be 
fore  I  made  my  escape  and  knocked  on  the 
parlor  door.  I  turned  the  knob  and  went  in 
without  waiting  for  a  summons. 

The  Mathers's  parlor  is  a  long  cool  dim 
room  with  old-fashioned  mahogany  furniture 
and  jars  of  roses  scattered  about.  It  was  so 
dark  after  the  bright  sunshine  of  the  rest  of 
the  house,  that  for  a  moment  I  did  n't  discover 
the  occupants  until  the  sound  of  Polly's  sob 
bing  proclaimed  their  whereabouts.  I  was 
somewhat  taken  aback  to  find  her  sitting  in  a 
corner  of  the  big  horsehair  sofa,  her  head  bur 
ied  in  the  cushions,  while  Terry,  nonchalantly 
leaning  back  in  his  chair,  regarded  her  with 
much  the  expression  that  he  might  have  worn 
at  a  "first  night"  at  the  theatre.  It  might  also 
be  noted  that  Polly  wore  a  white  dress  with  a 
big  bunch  of  roses  in  her  belt,  that  her  hair 
was  becomingly  rumpled  by  the  cushion,  and 
that  she  was  not  crying  hard  enough  to  make 
her  eyes  red. 

"Hello,  old  man!"  said  Terry  and  I  fancied 
that  his  tone  was  not  entirely  cordial.  "Just 


POLLY  MAKES  A  CONFESSION 

sit  down  and  listen  to  this.  We  Ve  been  hav 
ing  some  interesting  disclosures." 

Polly  raised  her  head  and  cast  him  a  re 
proachful  glance,  while  with  a  limp  wave  of 
the  hand  she  indicated  a  chair. 

I  settled  myself  and  inquired  reassuringly, 
"Well,  PoUy,  what 's  the  trouble?" 

"You  tell  him,"  said  Polly  to  Terry,  as  she 
settled  herself  to  cry  again. 

"I  '11  tell  you,"  said  Terry,  glancing  warily 
at  me,  "but  it  's  a  secret,  remember.  You 
must  n't  let  any  of  those  horrid  newspaper 
men  get  hold  of  it.  Miss  Mathers  would  hate 
awfully  to  have  anything  like  this  get  into  the 
papers." 

"Oh,  go  on,  Terry,"  said  I,  crossly,  "if 
you  Ve  got  anything  to  tell,  for  heaven's  sake 
tell  it!" 

"Well,  as  far  as  we  'd  got  when  you  inter 
rupted,  was  that  that  afternoon  in  the  cave 
she  and  Radnor  had  somehow  got  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  party  and  gone  on 
ahead.  They  sat  down  to  wait  for  the 
others  on  the  fallen  column,  and  while 
they  were  waiting  Radnor  asked  her  to 

[275] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

marry  him,  for  the  seventh— or  was  it  the 
eighth  time?" 

"The  seventh,  I  think,"  said  PoUy. 

"It  's  happened  so  often  that,  she  's  sort  of 
lost  track;  but  anyway,  she  replied  by  asking 
him  if  he  knew  the  truth  about  the  ghost.  He 
said,  yes,  he  did,  but  he  could  n't  tell  her;  it 
was  somebody  else's  secret.  On  his  word  of 
honor  though  there  was  nothing  that  he  was 
to  blame  for.  She  said  she  would  n't  marry  a 
man  who  had  secrets.  He  said  that  unless  she 
took  him  now,  she  would  never  have  the 
chance  again ;  it  was  the  last  time  he  was  going 
to  ask  her — is  that  straight,  Miss  Mathers?" 

"Y-yes,"  sobbed  Polly  from  the  depths  of 
her  cushion. 

Terry  proceeded  with  a  fast  broadening 
smile;  it  was  evident  that  he  enjoyed  the  reci 
tal. 

"And  then  being  naturally  angry  that  any 
man  should  presume  to  propose  for  the  last 
time,  she  proceeded  to  be  'perfectly  horrid'  to 
him.— Go  on,  Miss  Mathers.  That 's  as  far  as 
you  'd  got." 

"I— I  told  him — you  won't  tell  anyone?" 

"No." 

C276H 


POLLY  MAKES  A  CONFESSION 

"I  told  him  I  'd  decided  to  marry  Jim  Mat- 
tison." 

"Ah—  "  said  Terry.  "Now  we  're  getting 
at  it!  If  you  don't  mind  my  asking,  Miss 
Mathers,  was  that  just  a  bluff  on  your  part, 
or  had  Mr.  Mattison  really  asked  you?" 

Polly  sat  up  and  eyed  him  with  a  sparkle  of 
resentment. 

"Certainly,  he  'd  asked  me — a  dozen  times." 

"I  beg  pardon!"  murmured  Terry.  "So 
now  you  're  engaged  to  Mr.  Mattison?" 

"Oh,  no !"  cried  Polly.  "Jim  does  n't  know 
I  said  it — I  did  n't  mean  it;  I  just  wanted  to 
make  Radnor  mad." 

"I  see!  So  it  was  a  bluff  after  all?  Were 
you  successful  in  making  him  mad?" 

She  nodded  dismally. 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Oh,  he  was  awfully  angry!  He  said  that 
if  he  never  amounted  to  anything  it  would  be 
my  fault." 

"And  then  what?" 

"We  heard  the  others  coming  and  he 
started  off.  I  called  after  him  and  asked  him 
where  he  was  going,  and  he  said  he  was  going 
to  the  d— devil." 

C2773 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

Polly  began  to  cry  again,  and  Terry  chuck 
led  slightly. 

"As  a  good  many  other  young  men  have 
said  under  similar  circumstances.  But  where 
he  did  go,  was  to  the  hotel;  and  there,  it  ap 
pears,  he  drank  two  glasses  of  brandy  and 
swore  at  the  stable  boy. — Is  that  all,  Miss 
Mathers?" 

"Yes;  it 's  the  last  time  I  ever  saw  him  and 
he  thinks  I  'm  engaged  to  Jim  Mattison." 

"See  here,  Polly,"  said  I  with  some  excusa 
ble  heat,  "now  why  in  thunder  did  n't  you  tell 
me  all  this  before?" 

"You  did  n't  ask  me." 

"She  was  afraid  that  it  would  get  into  the 
papers,"  said  Terry,  soothingly.  "It  would  be 
a  terrible  scandal  to  have  anything  like  that 
get  out.  The  fact  that  Radnor  Gaylord  was 
likely  to  be  hanged  for  a  murder  he  never 
committed,  was  in  comparison  a  minor  af 
fair." 

Polly  turned  upon  him  with  a  flash  of  gray 
eyes. 

"I  was  going  to  tell  before  the  trial.  I 
did  n't  know  the  inquest  made  any  difference. 

C278] 


POLLY  MAKES  A  CONFESSION 

I  would  have  told  the  coroner  the  morning  he 
came  to  take  my  testimony,  only  he  brought 
Jim  Mattison  with  him  as  a  witness,  and  I 
could  n't  explain  before  Jim." 

"That  would  have  been  awkward,"  Terry 
agreed. 

"Polly,"  said  I,  severely.  "This  is  inex 
cusable!  If  you  had  explained  to  me  in  the 
first  place,  the  jury  would  never  have  re 
manded  Radnor  for  trial." 

"But  I  thought  you  would  find  the  real 
murderer,  and  then  Radnor  would  be  set  free. 
It  would  be  awful  to  tell  that  story  before  a 
whole  room  full  of  people  and  have  Jim  Mat 
tison  hear  it.  I  detest  Jim  Mattison !" 

"Be  careful  what  you  say,"  said  Terry. 
"You  may  have  to  take  Jim  Mattison  after 
all.  Radnor  Gaylord  will  never  ask  you 
again." 

"Then  1 11  ask  him!"  said  PoUy. 

Terry  laughed  and  rose. 

"He  's  in  a  bad  hole,  Miss  Mathers,  but 
I  'm  not  sure  but  that  I  envy  him  after  all." 

Polly  dimpled  through  her  tears;  this  was 
the  language  she  understood. 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Good  by,"  she  said.  "You  '11  remember 
your  promise?" 

"Never  a  syllable  will  I  breathe,"  said 
Terry,  and  he  put  a  hand  on  my  shoulder  and 
marched  me  off. 

"She  's  a  fascinating  young  person,"  he  ob 
served,  as  we  turned  into  the  road. 

"You  are  not  the  first  to  discover  that," 
said  I. 

"I  fancy  I  'm  not!"  he  retorted  with  a  side- 
wise  glance  at  me. 

Terry  gazed  at  the  landscape  a  few  mo 
ments  with  a  pensive  light  in  his  eyes,  then  he 
threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"Thank  heaven,  women  don't  go  in  for 
crime  to  any  great  extent !  You  're  never  safe 
in  forming  any  theory  about  'em— their  mo 
tives  and  their  actions  don't  match." 

He  paused  to  light  a  cigar  and  as  soon  as 
he  got  it  well  started  took  up  the  conversation 
again. 

"It 's  just  as  I  suspected  in  regard  to  Rad, 
though  I  will  say  the  papers  furnished  mighty 
few  clues.  It  was  the  coat  that  put  me  on  the 
track  coupled  with  his  behavior  at  the  hotel. 

C280] 


POLLY  MAKES  A  CONFESSION 

You  see  his  emotions  when  he  came  out  of  that 
cave  were  mixed.  There  was  probably  a  good 
deal  of  disappointment  and  grief  down  below 
his  anger,  but  that  for  the  moment  was  decid 
edly  in  the  lead.  He  had  been  badly  treated, 
and  he  knew  it.  What 's  more,  he  did  n't  care 
who  else  knew  it.  He  was  in  a  thoroughly  vi 
cious  mood  and  ready  to  wreak  his  anger  on 
the  first  thing  that  came  to  hand.  That  hap 
pened  to  be  his  horse.  By  the  time  he  got 
home  he  had  expended  the  most  of  his  temper 
and  his  disappointment  had  come  to  the  top. 
You  found  him  wrestling  with  that.  By  even 
ing  he  had  brought  his  philosophy  into  play, 
and  had  probably  decided  to  brace  up  and  try 
again.  And  that,"  he  finished,  "is  the  whole 
story  of  our  young  gentleman's  erratic  be 
havior." 

"I  wonder  I  did  n't  think  of  it  myself,"  I 
said. 

Terry  smiled  and  said  nothing. 

"Radnor  is  naturally  not  loquacious  about 
the  matter,"  he  resumed  presently.  "For  one 
thing,  because  he  does  not  wish  to  drag  Polly's 
name  into  it,  for  another,  I  suppose  he  feels 

[281 3 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

that  if  anyone  is  to  do  the  explaining,  she 
ought  to  be  the  one.  He  supposed  that  she 
would  be  present  at  the  inquest  and  that  her 
testimony  would  bring  out  sufficient  facts  to 
clear  him.  When  he  found  that  she  was  not 
there,  and  that  her  testimony  did  not  touch 
on  any  important  phase  of  the  matter,  he 
simply  shut  his  mouth  and  said,  'Very  well! 
Tf  she  won't  tell,  I  won't.'  Also,  the  coroner's 
manner  was  unfortunate.  He  showed  that  his 
sympathy  was  on  the  other  side ;  and  Radnor 
stubbornly  determined  not  to  say  one  word 
more  than  was  dragged  out  of  him  by  main 
force.  It  is  much  the  attitude  of  the  little  boy 
who  has  been  unfairly  punished,  and  who  de 
rives  an  immense  amount  of  satisfaction  from 
the  thought  of  how  sorry  his  friends  will  be 
when  he  is  dead.  And  now,  I  think  we  have 
Rad's  case  well  in  hand.  In  spite  of  the  fact 
that  he  seems  bound  to  be  hung,  we  shall  not 
have  much  difficulty  in  getting  him  off." 
"But  what  I  can't  understand,"  I  grum 
bled,  "is  why  that  little  wretch  did  n't  tell  me 
a  word  of  all  this.  She  came  and  informed  me 
off-hand  that  he  was  innocent  and  asked  me  to 


POLLY  MAKES  A  CONFESSION 

clear  him,  with  never  a  hint  that  she  could  ex 
plain  the  most  suspicious  circumstance  against 
him." 

"You  Ve  got  me,"  Terry  laughed.  "I 
give  up  when  it  comes  to  finding  out  why 
women  do  things.  If  you  had  asked  her,  you 
know,  she  would  have  told  you ;  but  you  never 
said  a  word  about  it." 

"How  could  I  ask  her  when  I  did  n't  know 
anything  about  it?" 

"I  managed  to  ask  her,"  said  Terry,  "and 
what  's  more,"  he  added  gloomily,  "I  prom 
ised  it  should  n't  go  any  further — that  is,  than 
is  necessary  to  get  Had  off.  Now  don't  you 
call  that  pretty  tough  luck,  after  coming  'way 
down  here  just  to  find  out  the  truth,  not  to  be 
allowed  to  print  it  when  I  Ve  got  it  ?  How  in 
the  deuce  am  I  to  account  for  Rad's  behavior 
without  mentioning  her?" 

"You  need  n't  have  promised,"  I  suggested. 

"Oh,  well,"  Terry  grinned,  "I  'm  human!" 

I  let  this  pass  and  he  added  hastily,  "We  Ve 
disposed  of  Jeff ;  we  Ve  disposed  of  Radnor, 
but  the  real  murderer  is  still  to  be  found." 

"And  that,"  I  declared,  "is  Cat-Eye  Mose." 

[283] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"It 's  possible,"  agreed  Terry  with  a  shrug. 
"But  I  have  just  the  tiniest  little  entering 
wedge  of  a  suspicion  that  the  real  murderer  is 
not  Cat-Eye  Mose." 


[284] 


CHAPTER  XXI 

MR.  TERENCE  KIRKWOOD  PATTEN  OF  NEW  YORK 

THERE  is  Luray,"  I  said,  pointing 
with  my  whip  to  the  scattered  houses 
of  the  village  as  they  lay  in  the  valley 
at  our  feet. 

Terry  stretched  out  a  hand  and  pulled  the 
horses  to  a  standstill. 

"Whoa,  just  a  minute  till  I  get  my  bear 
ings.  Now,  in  which  direction  is  the  cave?" 

"It  extends  all  along  underneath  us.  The 
entrance  is  over  there  in  the  undergrowth 
about  a  mile  to  the  east." 

"And  the  woods  extend  straight  across  the 
mountain  in  an  unbroken  line?" 

"Pretty  much  so.  There  are  a  few  farms 
scattered  in." 

"How  about  the  farmers?  Are  they  well- 
to-do  around  here?" 

"I  think  on  the  whole  they  are." 

[2853 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Which  do  they  employ  mostly  to  work  in 
the  fields,  negroes  or  white  men?" 

"As  to  that  I  can't  say.  It  depends  largely 
on  circumstances.  I  think  the  smaller  farms 
are  more  likely  to  employ  white  men." 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Terry,  "this  is  just  about 
planting  time.  Are  the  farmers  likely  to  take 
on  extra  men  at  this  season?" 

"No,  I  don't  think  so;  harvest  time  is  when 
they  are  more  likely  to  need  help." 

"Farming  is  new  to  me,"  laughed  Terry. 
"East  Side  problems  don't  involve  it.  A  man 
of  Mose's  habits  could  hide  pretty  effectually 
in  those  woods  if  he  chose."  He  scanned  the 
hills  again  and  then  brought  his  eyes  back  to 
the  village.  "I  suppose  we  might  as  well  go 
on  to  the  hotel  first.  I  should  like  to  inter 
view  some  of  the  people  there.  And  by  the 
way,"  he  added,  "it  's  as  well  not  to  let  them 
know  I  'm  a  friend  of  yours — or  a  newspaper 
man  either.  I  think  I  '11  be  a  detective.  Your 
young  man  from  Washington  seems  to  have 
made  quite  a  stir  in  regard  to  the  robbery; 
we  '11  see  if  I  can't  beat  him.  There  's  nothing 
that  so  impresses  a  rural  population  as  a  detec- 


MR.  PATTEN  OF  NEW  YORK 

tive.  They  look  upon  him  as  omnipotent  and 
omniscient,  and  every  man  squirms  before  him 
in  the  fear  that  his  own  little  sins  will  be 
brought  to  light."  Terry  laughed  in  prospect. 
"Introduce  me  as  a  detective  by  all  means!" 

"Anything  you  like,"  I  laughed  in  return. 
"I  '11  introduce  you  as  the  Pope  if  you  think 
it  will  do  any  good."  There  was  no  keeping 
Terry  suppressed,  and  his  exuberance  was 
contagious.  I  was  beginning  to  feel  light- 
hearted  myself. 

The  hotel  at  Luray  was  a  long  rambling 
structure  which  had  been  casually  added  to 
from  time  to  time.  It  was  painted  a  sickly, 
mustard  yellow  (a  color  which,  the  landlord 
assured  me,  would  last  forever)  but  it  's  bril 
liancy  was  somewhat  toned  by  a  thick  coating 
of  dust.  A  veranda  extended  across  the  front 
of  the  building  flush  with  the  wooden  side 
walk.  The  veranda  was  furnished  with  a  rail 
ing,  and  the  railing  was  furnished  at  all  times 
of  the  day — except  for  a  brief  nooning  from 
twelve  to  half -past — with  a  line  of  boot-soles 
in  assorted  sizes. 

We  drew  up  with  a  flourish  before  the 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

wooden  steps  in  front  of  the  hotel,  and  I 
threw  the  lines  to  the  .stable  boy  who  came  for 
ward  to  receive  us  with  an  amusing  air  of  im 
portance.  His  connection  with  the  Luray 
tragedy  conferred  a  halo  of  distinction,  and  he 
realized  the  fact.  It  was  not  every  one  in  the 
neighborhood  who  had  had  the  honor  of  being 
cursed  by  a  murderer.  As  we  alighted  Terry 
stopped  to  ask  him  a  few  questions.  The  boy 
had  told  his  story  to  so  many  credulous  audi 
ences  that  by  this  time  it  was  well-nigh  unrec 
ognizable.  As  he  repeated  it  now  for  Terry's 
benefit,  the  evidence  against  Radnor  appeared 
conclusive.  A  full  confession  of  guilt  could 
scarcely  have  been  more  damning. 

Terry  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"Take  care,  young  man,"  he  warned, 
"you  '11  be  eating  your  words  one  of  these 
days,  and  some  of  them  will  be  pretty  hard  to 
swallow." 

As  we  mounted  the  steps  I  nodded  to  sev 
eral  of  the  men  whom  I  remembered  having 
seen  before;  and  they  returned  an  interested, 
"How-dy-do?  Pleasant  day,"  as  they  cast  a 
reconnoitering  glance  at  my  companion. 

[2883 


MR.  PATTEN  OF  NEW  YORK 

"Gentlemen,"  I  said  with  a  wave  of  my 
hand  toward  Terry,  "let  me  introduce  Mr. 
Terence  Kirkwood  Patten,  the  well-known 
detective  of  New.  York,  who  has  come  down  to 
look  into  this  matter  for  us." 

The  chairs  which  were  tipped  back  against 
the  wall  came  down  with  a  thud,  and  an 
awed  and  somewhat  uneasy  shuffling  of 
feet  ensued. 

"I  wish  to  go  through  the  cave,"  Terry  re 
marked  in  the  crisp,  incisive  tones  a  detective 
might  be  supposed  to  employ,  "and  I  should 
like  to  have  the  same  guide  who  conducted 
Mr.  Crosby  the  time  the  body  was  discov 
ered." 

"That  's  Pete  Moser,  he  's  out  in  the  back 
lot  plowin',"  a  half  dozen  voices  responded. 

"Ah,  thank  you;  will  some  one  kindly  call 
him?  We  will  wait  here." 

Terry  proceeded  with  his  usual  ease  to 
make  himself  at  home.  He  tipped  back  his 
hat,  inclined  his  chair  at  the  same  dubious  an 
gle  as  the  others,  and  ranged  his  feet  along  the 
railing.  He  produced  cigars  from  various 
pockets,  and  the  atmosphere  became  less 

[289] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

strained.  They  were  beginning  to  realize  that 
detectives  are  made  of  the  same  flesh  and 
blood  as  other  people.  I  gave  Terry  the  lead 
— perhaps  it  would  be  more  accurate  to  say 
that  he  took  it— but  it  did  not  strike  me  that 
he  set  about  his  interviewing  in  a  very  busi 
ness-like  manner.  He  did  not  so  much  as  re 
fer  to  the  case  we  had  come  to  investigate,  but 
chatted  along  pleasantly  about  the  weather 
and  the  crops  and  the  difficulty  of  finding 
farm-hands. 

We  had  not  been  settled  very  long  when,  to 
my  surprise,  Jim  Mattison  strolled  out  from 
the  bar-room.  What  he  was  doing  in  Luray,  I 
could  easily  conjecture.  Mattison's  assump 
tion  of  interest  in  the  case  all  along  had  an 
gered  me  beyond  measure.  It  is  not,  ordinar 
ily,  a  part  of  the  sheriff's  duties  to  assist  the 
prosecution  in  making  out  a  case  against  one 
of  his  prisoners ;  and  owing  to  the  peculiar  re 
lation  he  bore  to  Radnor,  his  interference  was 
not  only  bad  law  but  excruciatingly  bad  taste. 
My  dislike  of  the  man  had  grown  to  such  an 
extent  that  I  could  barely  be  civil  to  him.  It 
was  only  because  it  was  policy  on  my  part  not 
C290-J 


MR.  PATTEN  OF  NEW  YORK 

to  make  him  an  active  enemy  that  I  tolerated 
his  presence  at  all. 

I  presented  Terry;  though  Mattison  took 
his  calling  more  calmly  than  the  others,  still  I 
caught  several  sidewise  glances  in  his  direc 
tion,  and  I  think  he  was  impressed. 

"Happy  to  know  you,  Mr.  Patten,"  he  re 
marked  as  he  helped  himself  to  a  chair  and  set 
tled  it  at  the  general  angle.  "This  is  a  pretty 
mysterious  case  in  some  respects.  I  rode  over 
myself  this  morning  to  look  into  a  few  points 
and  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  some  help— though 
I  'm  afraid  we  '11  not  find  anything  that  '11 
please  you." 

"Anything  pleases  me,  so  long  as  it  's  the 
truth,"  Terry  threw  off,  as  he  studied  the 
sheriff,  with  a  gleam  of  amusement  in  his 
eyes;  he  was  thinking,  I  knew,  of  Polly  Ma 
thers.  "I  hope,"  he  added,  assuming  a  se 
verely  professional  tone,  "that  you  have  n't 
let  a  lot  of  people  crowd  into  the  cave  and 
tramp  up  all  the  marks." 

The  landlord,  who  was  standing  in  the 
doorway,  chuckled  at  this. 

"There  ain't  many  people  that  you  could 

[291  ] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

drive  into  that  there  cave  at  the  point  of  the 
pistol,"  he  assured  us.  "They  think  it  's 
haunted;  leastways  the  niggers  do." 

"Have  niggers  been  in  the  habit  of  going  in 
much?" 

"Oh,  more  or  less,"  the  sheriff  returned, 
"when  they  want  to  make  themselves  incon 
spicuous  for  any  reason.  I  had  a  horse  thief 
hide  in  there  for  two  weeks  last  year  while  we 
were  scouring  the  country  for  him.  There 
are  so  many  little  holes ;  it 's  almost  impossible 
to  find  a  man.  Tramps  occasionally  spend  the 
night  there  in  cold  weather." 

"Do  you  have  many  tramps  around  here?" 

"Not  a  great  many.  Once  in  a  while  a  nig 
ger  comes  along  and  asks  for  something  to 
eat." 

"More  often  he  takes  it  without  asking," 
one  of  the  men  broke  in.  "A  week  or  so  ago 
my  ole  woman  had  a  cheese  an'  a  ham  an'  two 
whole  pies  that  she  'd  got  ready  for  a  church 
social  just  disappear  without  a  word,  out 
o'  the  pantry  winder.  If  that  ain't  the  mark 
of  a  nigger,  I  miss  my  guess." 

Terry  laughed. 

C292] 


MR.  PATTEN  OF  NEW  YORK 

"If  that  happened  in  the  North  we  should 
look  around  the  neighborhood  for  a  sick  small 
boy." 

"It  was  n't  no  boy  this  time— leastways  not 
a  very  small  one,"  the  man  affirmed,  "for  that 
same  day  a  pair  o'  my  boots  that  I  'd  left  in 
the  wood  house  just  naturally  walked  off  by 
theirselves,  an'  I  found  'em  the  next  day  at 
the  bottom  o'  the  pasture.  It  would  take  a 
pretty  sizeable  fellow  that  my  boots  was  too 
small  for,"  he  finished  with  a  grin. 

"They  are  a  trifle  conspicuous,"  one  of  the 
others  agreed  with  his  eyes  on  the  feet  in  ques 
tion. 

I  caught  an  interested  look  in  Terry's 
glance  as  he  mentally  took  their  measure,  and 
I  wondered  what  he  was  up  to ;  but  as  our  mes 
senger  and  Pete  Moser  appeared  around  the 
corner  at  the  moment,  I  had  no  time  for  spec 
ulation.  Terry  let  his  chair  slip  with  a  bang 
and  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Moser!  I  'm  glad  to  see  you," 
he  exclaimed  with  an  air  of  relief.  "It  's  get 
ting  late,"  he  added,  looking  at  his  watch, 
"and  I  must  get  this  business  settled  as  soon 

[293] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

as  possible ;  I  have  another  little  affair  waiting 
for  me  in  New  York.  Bring  plenty  of  cal 
cium  light,  please.  We  want  to  see  what 
we  're  doing." 

As  the  four  of  us  were  preparing  to  start, 
Terry  paused  on  the  top  step  and  nodded 
pleasantly  to  the  group  on  the  veranda. 

"Thank  you  for  your  information,  gentle 
men.  I  have  no  doubt  but  that  it  will  be  of 
the  greatest  importance,"  and  he  turned  away 
with  a  laugh  at  their  puzzled  faces. 

The  sheriff  and  I  were  equally  puzzled.  I 
should  have  suspected  that  Terry,  in  the  role 
of  detective,  was  playing  a  joke  on  them,  had 
he  not  very  evidently  got  something  on  his 
mind.  He  was  of  a  sudden  in  a  frenzy  of  im 
patience  to  reach  the  cave,  and  he  kept  well 
ahead  of  us  most  of  the  way. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Mattison  as  he  climbed  a 
fence  with  tantalizing  deliberation— we  were 
going  by  way  of  the  fields  as  that  was  shorter 

"I  suppose  that  you  are  trying  to  prove 
that  Radnor  Gaylord  had  nothing  to  do  with 
this  murder?" 

"That  will  be  easy  enough,"  Terry  threw 

C294] 


MR.  PATTEN  OF  NEW  YORK 

back  over  his  shoulder.  "I  dropped  him  long 
ago.  The  one  I  'm  after  now  is  the  real  mur 
derer." 

Mattison  scowled  slightly. 

"If  you  can  explain  what  it  was  that  hap 
pened  in  that  cave  that  upset  him  so  mightily, 
I  'd  come  a  little  nearer  to  believing  you." 

Terry  laughed  and  fell  back  beside  him. 

"It  's  a  thing  which  I  imagine  may  have 
happened  to  one  or  two  other  young  men  of 
this  neighborhood — not  inconceivably  your 
self  included." 

Mattison,  seeing  no  meaning  in  this  sally, 
preserved  a  sulky  silence  and  Terry  added : 

"The  thing  for  us  to  do  now  is  to  bend  all 
our  energies  toward  finding  Cat-Eye  Mose. 
I  doubt  if  we  can  completely  explain  the  mys 
tery  until  he  is  discovered." 

"And  that,"  said  the  sheriff,  "will  be  never! 
You  may  mark  my  words ;  whoever  killed  the 
Colonel,  killed  Mose,  too." 

"It  's  possible,"  said  Terry  with  an  air  of 
sadness,  "but  I  hope  not.  I  came  all  the  way 
down  from  New  York  on  purpose  to  see 
Mose,  and  I  should  hate  to  miss  him." 

[295] 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  DISCOVERY  OF  CAT-EYE  MOSE 

HAVING  lighted  our  candles,  we  de 
scended  into  the  cave  and  set  out 
along  the  path  I  now  knew  so  well. 
When  we  reached  the  pool  the  guide  lit  a  cal 
cium  light  which  threw  a  fierce  white  glare 
over  the  little  body  of  water  and  the  lime 
stone  cliffs,  and  even  penetrated  to  the  stalac 
tite  draped  roof  far  above  our  heads.  For  a 
moment  we  stood  blinking  our  eyes  scarcely 
able  to  see,  so  sudden  was  the  change  from  the 
semi-darkness  of  our  four  flickering  candles. 
Then  Terry  stepped  forward. 

"Show  me  where  you  found  the  body  and 
point  out  the  spot  where  the  struggle  took 
place." 

He  spoke  in  quick,  eager  tones,  so  excited 
that  he  almost  stuttered.  It  was  not  neces 
sary  for  him  to  act  the  part  of  detective  any 

C296] 


THE  DISCOVERY 

longer.  He  had  forgotten  that  he  ever  was  a 
reporter— he  had  forgotten  almost  that  he 
was  a  human  being. 

From  where  we  stood  we  pointed  out  the 
place  above  the  pool  where  the  struggle  had 
occurred,  the  spot  under  the  cliff  where  the, 
body  had  lain,  and  the  jagged  piece  of  rock 
on  which  we  had  found  the  coat.  Moser  even 
laid  down  upon  the  ground  and  spread  out 
his  arms  in  the  position  in  which  we  had  dis 
covered  the  Colonel's  body. 

"Very  well,  I  see,"  said  Terry.  "Now  the 
rest  of  you  stay  back  there  on  the  boards;  I 
don't  want  you  to  make  a  mark." 

He  stepped  forward  carefully  to  the  edge 
of  the  water  and  bent  over  to  examine  the 
soft,  yellow  clay  which  formed  the  border  of 
the  pool  on  the  lower  side.  Instantly  he 
straightened  up  with  a  sharp  exclamation  of 
surprise. 

"Did  any  negroes  come  in  with  you  to  re 
cover  the  body?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  returned  the  sheriff,  "as  old  man 
Tompkins  said,  you  could  n't  hire  a  nigger 
to  stick  his  head  in  here  after  the  Colonel  was 

C297] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

found.  They  say  they  can  hear  something 
wailing  around  the  pool  and  they  think  his 
ghost  is  haunting  it." 

"They  can  hear  something  wailing,  can 
they?"  Terry  repeated  queerly.  "Well  I  be 
gin  to  believe  they  can!  What  is  the  mean 
ing  of  this?"  he  demanded,  facing  around  at 
us.  "How  do  you  account  for  these  peculiar 
foot-prints?" 

"What  prints?"  I  asked  as  we  all  pressed 
forward. 

At  the  moment  the  calcium  light  with  a 
final  flare,  died  out,  and  we  were  left  again 
in  the  flickering  candle  light  which  seemed 
darkness  to  us  now. 

"Quick,  touch  off  another  calcium!"  said 
Terry,  with  suppressed  impatience.  He  laid 
a  hand  on  my  shoulder  and  my  arm  ached 
from  the  tightness  of  his  grip.  "There,"  he 
said  pointing  with  his  finger  as  the  light 
flared  up  again.  "What  do  you  make  of 
those?" 

I  bent  over  and  plainly  traced  the  prints  of 
bare  feet,  going  and  coming  and  over-lap 
ping  one  another,  just  as  an  animal  would 

[298] 


THE  DISCOVERY 

make  in  pacing  a  cage.  I  shivered  slightly. 
It  was  a  terribly  uncanny  sight. 

"Well?"  said  Terry  sharply.  The  place 
was  beginning  to  get  on  his  nerves  too. 

"Terry,"  I  said  uneasily,  "I  never  saw 
them  before.  I  thought  I  examined  every 
thing  thoroughly,  but  I  was  so  excited  I  sup 
pose— 

"What  did  you  make  of  them?"  he  inter 
rupted,  whirling  about  on  Mattison  who  was 
looking  over  our  shoulders. 

"I— I  did  n't  see  them,"  Mattison  stam 
mered. 

"For  heaven's  sake,  men,"  said  Terry  im 
patiently.  "Do  you  mean  they  were  n't  there 
or  you  did  n't  notice  them?" 

The  sheriff  and  I  looked  at  each  other 
blankly,  and  neither  answered. 

Terry  stood  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
frowning  down  at  the  marks,  while  the  rest  of 
us  waited  silently,  scarcely  daring  to  think. 
Finally  he  turned  away  without  saying  a 
word,  and,  motioning  us  to  keep  back,  com 
menced  examining  the  path  which  led  up  the 
incline.  He  mounted  the  three  stone  steps, 

[299] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

and  with  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  slowly  ad 
vanced  to  the  spot  where  the  struggle  had 
taken  place. 

"How  tall  a  man  did  you  say  Mose  was?" 
he  called  down  to  us. 

"Little  short  fellow— not  more  than  five 
feet  high,"  returned  the  sheriff. 

Terry  took  his  ruler  from  his  pocket  and 
bent  over  to  study  the  marks  at  the  scene  of 
the  struggle.  He  straightened  up  with  an  air 
of  satisfaction. 

"Now  I  want  you  men  to  look  carefully  at 
those  marks  on  the  lower  borders  of  the  pool, 
and  then  come  up  here  and  look  at  these. 
Come  along  up  in  single  file,  please,  and  keep 
to  the  middle  of  the  path." 

He  spoke  in  the  tone  of  one  giving  a  dem 
onstration  before  a  kindergarten  class.  We 
obeyed  him  silently  and  ranged  in  a  row  along 
the  boards. 

"Come  here,"  he  said.  "Bend  over  where 
you  can  see.  Now  look  at  those  marks.  Do 
you  see  anything  different  in  them  from,  the 
marks  below?" 

The  sheriff  and  I  gazed  intently  at  the 


THE  DISCOVERY 

prints  of  bare  feet  which  marked  the  entire 
vicinity  of  the  struggle.  We  had  both  exam 
ined  them  more  than  once  before,  and  we  saw 
nothing  now  but  what  had  already  appeared. 
We  straightened  up  and  shook  our  heads. 

"They  're  the  prints  of  bare  feet,"  said 
Mattison,  stolidly.  "But  I  don't  see  that 
they  're  any  different  from  any  other  bare 
feet." 

Terry  handed  him  the  ruler. 

"Measure  them,"  he  said.  "Measure  this 
one  that 's  flat  on  the  ground.  Now  go  down 
and  measure  one  of  those  prints  by  the  bor 
ders  of  the  pool." 

Mattison  took  the  ruler  and  complied.  As 
he  bent  over  the  marks  on  the  lower  border  we 
could  see  by  the  light  of  his  candle  the  look  of 
astonishment  that  sprang  into  his  face. 

"Well,  what  do  you  find?"  Terry  asked. 

"The  marks  up  there  are  nearly  two  inches 
longer  and  an  inch  broader." 

"Exactly." 

"Terry,"  I  said,  "you  can't  blame  us  for 
not  finding  that  out.  We  examined  every 
thing  when  we  took  away  the  body,  and  those 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

marks  below  were  simply  not  there.  Some 
one  has  been  in  since." 

"So  I  conclude.  Now,  Mattison,"  he 
added  to  the  sheriff,  "come  here  and  show  me 
the  marks  of  Radnor  Gaylord's  riding  boots." 

Mattison  returned  and  pointed  out  the 
mark  which  he  had  produced  at  the  inquest, 
but  his  assurance,  I  noticed,  was  somewhat 
shaken. 

"That,"  said  Terry  half  contemptuously, 
"is  the  mark  of  Colonel  Gaylord.  You  must 
remember  that  he  was  struggling  with  his  as 
sailant.  He  did  not  plant  his  foot  squarely 
every  time.  Sometimes  we  have  only  the  heel 
mark:  sometimes  only  the  toe.  In  this  case 
we  have  more  than  the  mark  of  the  whole  foot. 
How  do  I  account  for  it?  Simply  enough. 
The  Colonel's  foot  slipped  sideways.  The 
mark  is,  you  see,  exactly  the  same  in  length 
as  the  others,  but  disproportionately  broad. 
At  the  heel  and  toe  it  is  smudged,  and  on  the 
inside  where  the  weight  was  thrown,  it  is 
heavier  than  on  the  outside.  The  thing  is 
easy  enough  to  understand.  You  ought  to 
have  been  able  to  deduce  it  for  yourselves. 

C302  ] 


THE  DISCOVERY 

And  besides,  how  did  you  account  for  the  fact 
that  there  was  only  one  mark?  A  man  en 
gaged  in  a  struggle  must  have  left  more  than 
that  behind  him.  No;  it  is  quite  clear.  At 
this  point  on  the  edge  of  the  bank  there  was 
no  third  person.  We  are  dealing  with  only 
two  men — Colonel  Gaylord  and  his  murderer; 
and  the  murderer  was  bare-footed." 

"Mose?"Iasked. 

"No,"  said  Terry,  patiently,  "not  Mose." 

"Then  who?" 

"That— remains  to  be  seen.  I  will  follow 
him  up  and  find  out  where  he  comes  from." 

Terry  held  his  candle  close  to  the  ground 
and  followed  along  the  path.  At  the  en 
trance  to  the  little  gallery  of  the  broken  col 
umn  it  diverged,  one  part  leading  into  the 
gallery,  and  the  other  into  a  sort  of  blind  alley 
at  one  side.  Terry  paused  at  the  opening. 

"Give  me  some  more  calcium  light,"  he 
called  to  the  guide.  "I  want  to  look  into  this 
passage.  And  just  hand  me  some  of  those 
boards,"  he  added.  "It 's  very  necessary  that 
we  keep  the  marks  clear." 

The  rest  of  us  stood  in  a  huddled  group  on 

[303] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

the  one  or  two  boards  he  had  left  us  and 
watched  him  curiously  as  he  made  his  way 
down  the  passage.  He  paused  at  the  end  and 
examined  the  ground.  We  saw  him  stoop 
and  pick  up  something.  Then  he  rose  quickly 
with  a  cry  of  triumph  and  came  running  back 
to  us  holding  his  hands  behind  him. 

"It 's  just  as  I  suspected,"  he  said,  his  eyes 
shining  with  excitement.  "Colonel  Gaylord 
had  an  enemy  he  did  not  know." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  we  asked,  crowding 
around. 

"Here  's  the  proof,"  and  he  held  out 
towards  us  a  well  gnawed  ham  bone  in 
one  hand  and  a  cheese  rind  in  the  other. 
"These  were  the  provisions  intended  for  the 
church  social;  the  pies,  I  fancy,  have  disap 
peared." 

We  stared  at  him  a  moment  in  silent  won 
der.  The  sheriff  was  the  first  to  assert  him 
self. 

"What  have  these  to  do  with  the  crime?"  he 
asked,  viewing  the  trophies  with  an  air  of  dis 
gust. 

"Everything.    The  man  who  stole  those  is 

C304] 


THE  DISCOVERY 

the  man  who  robbed  the  safe  and  who  mur 
dered  Colonel  Gaylord." 

The  sheriff  uttered  a  low  laugh  of  incre 
dulity,  and  the  guide  and  I  stared  open- 
mouthed. 

"And  what  's  more,  I  will  tell  you  what  he 
looks  like.  He  is  a  large,  very  black  negro 
something  over  six  feet  tall.  When  last  seen, 
he  was  dressed  in  a  blue  and  white  checked 
blouse  and  ragged  overalls.  His  shoes  were 
much  the  worse  for  wear,  and  have  since  been 
thrown  away.  He  was  bare-footed  at  the 
time  he  committed  the  crime.  In  short," 
Terry  added,  "he  is  the  chicken  thief  whom 
Colonel  Gaylord  whipped  a  couple  of  days 
before  he  died,"  and  he  briefly  repeated  the 
incident  I  had  told  him. 

"You  mean,"  I  asked,  "that  he  was  the 
ha'nt?" 

"Yes,"  said  Terry,  "he  was  the  second 
ha'nt.  He  has  been  hiding  for  two  or  three 
weeks  in  the  spring-hole  at  Four-Pools,  keep 
ing  hidden  during  the  day  and  coming  out  at 
night  to  prowl  around  and  steal  whatever  he 
could  lay  his  hands  on.  He  doubtless  de- 

20  C305] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

served  punishment,  but  that  fact  would  not 
make  him  the  less  bitter  over  the  Colonel's 
beating.  When  I  heard  that  story,  I  said  to 
myself,  'there  is  a  man  who  would  be  ready 
for  revenge  if  chance  put  the  opportunity  in 
his  way.' ' 

"But,"  I  expostulated,  "how  did  he  happen 
to  be  in  the  cave?" 

"As  to  that  I  cannot  say.  After  the  Colo 
nel's  beating  he  probably  did  not  dare  to  hang 
about  Four-Pools  any  longer.  He  took  to 
the  woods  and  came  in  this  direction;  being 
engaged  in  petty  thieving  about  the  neigh 
borhood,  it  was  necessary  to  find  a  hiding 
place  during  the  daytime  and  the  cave  was  his 
most  natural  refuge.  We  know  that  he  is  not 
afraid  of  the  dark — the  spring-hole  at  Four- 
Pools  is  about  as  dismal  a  place  as  a  man 
could  find.  He  established  himself  in  this 
passage  in  order  to  be  near  the  water.  See, 
here  in  the  corner  are  drops  of  candle  grease 
and  the  remains  of  a  fire.  On  the  day  of  the 
Mathers's  picnic  he  doubtless  saw  the  party 
pass  through  and  recognized  Colonel  Gay- 
lord.  It  brought  to  his  mind  the  thrashing  he 
had  received.  While  he  was  still  brooding 

C306] 


THE  DISCOVERY 

over  the  matter,  the  Colonel  came  back  alone, 
and  it  flashed  into  the  fellow's  mind  that  this 
was  his  chance.  He  may  have  been  afraid  at 
first  or  he  may  have  hesitated  through  kind 
lier  motives.  At  any  rate  he  did  not  attack 
the  Colonel  immediately,  but  retreated  into 
the  passage,  and  the  old  man  passed  him  with 
out  seeing  him  and  went  on  into  the  gallery 
and  got  the  coat. 

"In  the  meantime,  the  negro  had  made  up 
his  mind,  and  as  the  Colonel  came  back,  he 
crept  along  behind  him.  It  is  hard  to  trace 
the  marks,  for  another  bare-footed  man  has 
walked  over  them  since.  But  see,  in  this  place 
at  the  edge  of  the  path,  there  's  the  mark  of  a 
palm,  showing  where  the  assassin's  hand 
rested  when  he  crouched  on  the  ground.  He 
sprang  upon  the  old  man  from  the  rear  and 
they  struggled  together  over  the  water— 
touch  off  a  light,  please— you  see  how  the  clay 
is  all  trampled  over  on  both  sides  of  the  path, 
'way  out  to  the  brink  of  the  pool.  There  is  no 
second  set  of  marks  here  to  obliterate  it;  we 
are  dealing  with  just  two  people — Colonel 
Gaylord  and  his  assassin." 

Terry  bent  low  and  picked  up  from  a  crev- 

[307] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

ice  what  looked  like  a  piece  of  stone  covered 
with  clay. 

"Here,  you  see,  is  the  end  of  the  Colonel's 
candle.  He  probably  dropped  it  when  the 
man  first  sprang,  and  in  the  darkness  he  could 
not  tell  who  or  what  had  attacked  him.  In  his 
frenzy  to  have  a  light  he  snatched  out  his 
match  box— Radnor's  box — and  that  too  was 
dropped  in  the  scuffle. 

"Now,  even  if  the  original  motive  of  the 
crime  were  not  robbery  but  revenge — as  I 
fancy  it  was — at  any  rate  the  murderer,  being 
a  tramp  and  a  thief,  would  have  robbed  the 
body.  But  he  did  not.  Why  was  that?  Be 
cause  he  saw  or  heard  something  that  fright 
ened  him,  and  what  could  that  have  been  but 
Mose  running  to  his  master's  assistance?" 

Terry  strode  over  to  the  steps  which  led  to 
the  incline,  and  motioning  us  to  follow, 
pointed  out  some  marks  on  the  sloping  bank 
at  the  side  of  the  path. 

"See,  here  are  Mose's  tracks.  He  was  in 
such  a  hurry  that  he  could  not  wait  to  come  up 
by  the  steps ;  he  tried  to  take  a  cross  cut.  He 
scrambled  up  the  slippery  bank  so  fast  that  he 

[308] 


THE  DISCOVERY 

fell  on  his  hands  and  knees  in  this  place  and 
slid  back.  That  accounts  for  those  long  drag 
ging  marks,  which  none  of  you  appear  to  have 
noticed.  Mose  did  his  best,  but  he  could  not 
reach  his  master  in  time.  The  murderer  see 
ing — or  rather  hearing  him,  for  it  must  have 
been  dark — was  seized  with  sudden  fear,  and 
with  a  convulsive  effort  he  threw  the  old  man 
against  the  rock  wall  here,  where  his  head 
struck  on  this  broken  stalactite.  If  you  look 
carefully  you  can  see  the  marks  of  blood.  He 
then  hurled  him  into  the  pool  and  fled." 

"It  sounds  plausible  enough,"  said  the 
sheriff  slowly,  "but  there  are  one  or  two 
points  which  I  'm  afraid  will  not  bear  examin 
ing.  Suppose  your  man  did  thrown  the  Colo 
nel  into  the  water  and  run  for  it,  then  what,  I 
should  like  to  know,  has  become  of  Cat-Eye 
Mose?" 

"That,"  said  Terry,  knitting  his  brows,  "is 
still  a  mystery  and  a  fairly  deep  one.  There 
is  something  uncommonly  strange  about  those 
tracks  on  the  lower  borders  of  the  pool  and  I 
confess  they  puzzle  me.  Only  one  explana 
tion  occurs  to  me  now  and  that  is  not  pleas- 

[309] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

ant  to  think  of.  We  have  some  clues  to  work 
with  however,  and  we  ought  not  to  be  long  in 
getting  at  the  truth.  If  I  had  had  your 
chance  of  examining  the  cave  on  the  day  of 
the  crime,"  he  added,  "I  think  I  should 
know." 

"You  might,  and  again  you  might  not," 
said  Mattison.  "It  's  easy  enough  for  you 
fellows  to  come  down  here  and  make  up  a 
story  about  a  lot  of  people  you  Ve  never  seen, 
but  I  '11  tell  you  one  thing,  and  that  is  that 
you  're  not  so  likely  to  hit  the  truth  as  the  men 
who  Ve  been  brought  up  in  the  country.  In 
the  first  place  it  comes  natural  to  niggers  to 
be  whipped  and  they  don't  mind  it.  In  the 
second  place  if  your  tramp  did  want  to  take 
it  out  on  the  Colonel  why  should  he  be  scared 
by  Mose,  who  was  a  little  bit  of  a  sawed-off 
cuss  that  I  could  lick  with  one  hand  tied  be 
hind  me?  You  may  be  able  to  impress  a 
New  York  jury  with  a  ham  bone  and  a  cheese 
rind,  Mr.  Patten,  but  I  can  tell  you,  sir,  that  a 
Virginia  jury  wants  witnesses." 

"We  shall  do  our  best  to  provide  some," 
said  Terry,  coolly. 


THE  DISCOVERY 

"And  perhaps  you  can  tell,"  added  Matti- 
son  with  the  triumphant  air  of  clinching  the 
matter,  "what  has  become  of  the  five  thousand 
dollars  in  bonds  ?  You  can  never  make  me  be 
lieve  that  any  nigger— 

"Oh,  they  're  back  in  the  safe  at  Four- 
Pools.  I  found  'em  this  morning  in  the 
spring-hole  where  the  man  had  thrown  them 
away. — Now,  gentlemen,"  he  added  with  a 
touch  of  impatience,  "I  want  to  try  a  little  ex 
periment  before  we  leave  the  cave.  Will  you 
all  please  put  out  your  lights?  I  want  to  see 
how  dark  it  really  is  in  here." 

We  blew  out  our  candles  and  stood  a  mo 
ment  in  silence.  At  first  all  was  black  around 
us,  but  as  our  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the 
darkness,  we  saw  that  a  faint  light  filtered 
in  from  somewhere  in  the  roof  above  our 
heads.  We  could  make  out  the  pale  blur  of 
the  white  rock  wall  on  one  side  and  the  merest 
glimmer  of  the  pool  below. 

"No,"  Terry  began,  "he  could  have  seen 
nothing;  he  must  have—  '  He  broke  off  sud 
denly  and  gripping  my  arm  whispered  out, 
"What 's  that?" 

[311] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"Where?"  I  asked. 

"Up  there;  straight  ahead." 

I  looked  up  and  saw  two  round  eyes  which 
glittered  like  a  wild  beast's,  staring  at  us  out 
of  the  darkness.  A  cold  chill  ran  up  my  back 
and  I  instinctively  huddled  closer  to  the 
others.  For  a  moment  no  one  spoke  and  I 
heard  the  click  of  Terry's  revolver  as  he 
cocked  it.  Then  it  suddenly  came  over  me 
what  it  was,  and  I  cried  out : 

"It  's  Cat-Eye  Mose!" 

"Good  Lord,  he  can  see  in  the  dark!  Strike 
a  light,  some  one,"  Terry  said  huskily. 

The  sheriff  struck  a  match.  We  lit  our  can 
dles  with  trembling  hands  and  pressed  for 
ward  (in  a  body)  to  the  spot  where  the  eyes 
had  appeared. 

Crouched  in  a  corner  of  a  little  recess  half 
way  up  the  irregular  wall,  we  found  Mose, 
shivering  with  fear  and  looking  down  at  us 
with  dumb,  animal  eyes.  We  had  to  drag 
him  out  by  main  force.  The  poor  fellow  was 
nearly  famished  and  so  weak  he  could  scarcely 
stand.  What  little  sense  he  had  ever 
possessed  seemed  to  have  left  him,  and 

[312  ] 


THE  DISCOVERY 

he  jabbered  in  a  tongue  that  was  scarcely 
English. 

We  bolstered  him  up  with  a  few  drops  of 
whisky  from  Mattison's  flask,  and  half  car 
ried  him  out  into  the  light.  The  guide  ran 
ahead  to  get  a  carriage,  spreading  the  news 
as  he  ran,  that  Cat-Eye  Mose  had  been  found. 
Half  the  town  of  Luray  came  out  to  the  cave 
to  escort  us  back,  and  I  think  the  feeling  of 
regret  was  general,  in  that  there  had  not  been 
time  enough  to  collect  a  brass  band. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MOSE  TELLS  HIS  STORY 

WE  took  Mose  back  to  the  hotel, 
shut  out  the  crowd,  and  gave  him 
something  to  eat.  He  was  quite 
out  of  his  head  and  it  was  only  by  dint  of  the 
most  patient  questioning  that  we  finally  got 
his  story.  It  was,  in  substance,  as  Terry  had 
sketched  it  in  the  cave. 

In  obedience  to  my  request,  Mose  had  gone 
back  after  the  coat,  not  knowing  that  the  Colo 
nel  was  before  him.  Suddenly,  as  he  came 
near  the  pool  he  heard  a  scream  and  looked  up 
in  time  to  see  a  big  negro — the  one  my  uncle 
had  struck  with  his  crop — spring  upon  the 
Colonel  with  the  cry,  "It  's  my  tu'n,  now, 
Cunnel  Gay  lord.  You  whup  me,  an'  I  '11  let 
you  see  what  it  feels  like." 

The  Colonel  turned  and  clinched  with  his 
assailant,  and  in  the  struggle  the  light  was 

[814] 


MOSE  TELLS  HIS  STORY 

dropped.  Mose,  with  a  cry,  ran  forward  to 
his  master's  assistance,  but  when  the  negro 
saw  him  climbing  up  the  bank  he  suddenly 
screamed,  and  hurling  the  old  man  from  him, 
turned  and  fled. 

"The  fellow  must  have  taken  him  for  the 
devil  when  he  saw  those  eyes,  and  I  don't  won 
der!"  Terry  interpolated  at  this  point. 

After  the  Colonel's  murder,  it  seems  that 
Mose,  crazed  by  grief  and  fear,  had  watched 
us  carry  the  body  away,  and  then  had  stayed 
by  the  spot  where  his  master  had  died.  This 
accounted  for  the  marks  on  the  border  of  the 
pool.  Knowing  all  of  the  intricate  passages 
and  hiding  places  as  he  did,  it  had  been  an 
easy  matter  for  him  to  evade  the  party  that 
had  searched  for  his  body.  He  ate  the  food 
the  murderer  had  left,  but  this  being  ex 
hausted,  he  would,  I  have  n't  a  doubt,  have 
died  there  himself  with  the  unreasoning  faith 
fulness  of  a  dog. 

When  he  finished  his  rambling  and  in  some 
places  scarcely  intelligible  account,  we  sat  for 
a  moment  with  our  eyes  upon  his  face,  fascin 
ated  by  his  look.  Every  bit  of  repugnance  I 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

had  ever  felt  toward  him  had  vanished,  and 
there  was  left  in  its  place  only  a  sense  of  pity. 
Mose's  cheeks  were  hollow,  his  features 
sharper  than  ever,  and  his  face  was  almost 
pale.  From  underneath  his  straight,  black, 
matted  hair  his  eyes  glittered  feverishly,  and 
their  expression  of  uncomprehending  anguish 
was  pitiful  to  see.  He  seemed  like  a  dumb 
animal  that  has  come  into  contact  with  death 
for  the  first  time  and  asks  the  reason. 

Terry  took  his  eyes  from  Mose's  face  and 
looked  down  at  the  table  with  a  set  jaw.  I  do 
not  think  that  he  was  deriving  as  much  pleas 
ure  from  the  sight  as  he  had  expected.  We 
all  of  us  experienced  a  feeling  of  relief  when 
the  doctor  appeared  at  the  door.  We  turned 
Mose  over  to  him  with  instructions  to  do  what 
he  could  for  the  poor  fellow  and  to  take  him 
back  to  Four-Pools. 

As  the  door  shut  behind  them,  the  sheriff 
said  (with  a  sigh,  I  thought),  "This  business 
proves  one  thing:  it  's  never  safe  to  lynch  a 
man  until  you  are  sure  of  the  facts." 

"It  proves  another  thing,"  said  Terry, 
dryly,  "which  is  a  thing  you  people  don't 

[316] 


MOSE  TELLS  HIS  STORY 

seem  to  have  grasped ;  and  that  is  that  negroes 
are  human  beings  and  have  feelings  like  the 
rest  of  us.  Poor  old  Colonel  Gaylord  paid  a 
terrible  price  for  not  having  learned  it  earlier 
in  life." 

We  pondered  this  in  silence  for  a  moment, 
then  the  sheriff  voiced  a  feeling  which,  to  a 
slight  extent,  had  been  lurking  in  the  back 
ground  of  my  own  consciousness,  in  spite  of 
my  relief  at  the  denouement. 

"It  's  kind  of  disappointing  when  you  Ve 
got  your  mind  worked  up  to  something  big, 
to  find  in  the  end  that  there  was  nothing  but  a 
chance  nigger  at  the  bottom  of  all  that  mys 
tery.  Seems  sort  of  a  let-down." 

Terry  eyed  him  with  an  air  of  grim  humor, 
then  he  leaned  across  the  table  and  spoke  with 
a  ring  of  conviction  that  carried  his  message 
home. 

"You  are  mistaken,  Mattison,  the  murderer 
of  Colonel  Gaylord  was  not  a  chance  nigger. 
There  was  no  chance  about  it.  Colonel  Gay- 
lord  killed  himself.  He  committed  suicide— 
as  truly  as  if  he  had  blown  out  his  brains  with 
a  gun.  He  did  it  with  his  uncontrollable  tem- 

£8173 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

per.  The  man  was  an  egoist.  He  has  al 
ways  looked  upon  his  own  desires  and  feel 
ings  as  of  supreme  importance.  He  has  tried 
to  crush  the  life  and  spirit  and  independence 
from  everyone  about  him.  But  once  too  often 
he  wreaked  his  anger  upon  an  innocent  per 
son—at  least  upon  a  person  that  for  all  he 
knew  was  innocent — and  at  one  stroke  his 
past  injustices  were  avenged.  It  was  not 
chance  that  killed  Colonel  Gaylord.  It  was 
the  inevitable  law  of  cause  and  effect.  'Way 
back  in  his  boyhood  when  he  gave  way  to  his 
first  fit  of  passion,  he  sentenced  himself  to 
some  such  end  as  this.  Every  unjust  act  in 
his  after-life  piled  up  the  score  against  him. 
"Oh,  I  've  seen  it  a  hundred  times!  It  's 
character  that  tells.  I  Ve  seen  it  happen  to  a 
political  boss— a  man  whose  business  it  was 
to  make  friends  with  every  voter  high  and 
low.  I  've  seen  him  forget,  just  once,  and 
turn  on  a  man,  humiliate  him,  wound  his 
pride,  crush  him  under  foot  and  think  no 
more  of  the  matter  than  if  he  had  stepped  on 
a  worm.  And  I  've  seen  that  man,  the  most 
insignificant  of  the  politician's  followers, 

[SIS] 


MOSE  TELLS  HIS  STORY 

work  and  plot  and  scheme  to  overthrow  him; 
and  in  the  end  succeed.  The  big  man  never 
knew  what  struck  him.  He  thought  it  was 
luck,  chance,  a  turn  of  the  wheel.  He  never 
dreamed  that  it  was  his  own  character  hitting 
back.  I  Ve  seen  it  so  often,  I  'm  a  fatalist. 
I  don't  believe  in  chance.  It  was  Colonel 
Gaylord  who  killed  himself,  and  he  com 
menced  it  fifty  years  ago." 

"It 's  God  's  own  truth,  Terry!"  I  said  sol 
emnly. 

The  sheriff  had  listened  to  Terry's  words 
with  an  anxiously  reminiscent  air.  I  won 
dered  if  he  were  reviewing  his  own  political 
past,  to  see  if  by  chance  he  also  had  un 
wittingly  crushed  a  worm.  He  raised  his 
eyes  to  Terry's  face  with  a  gleam  of  ad 
miration. 

"You  Ve  been  pretty  clever,  Mr.  Patten, 
in  finding  out  the  truth  about  this  crime,"  he 
acknowledged  generously.  "But  you  could  n't 
have  expected  me  to  find  out,"  he  added,  "for 
I  did  n't  know  any  of  the  circumstances.  I 
had  never  even  heard  that  such  a  man  existed 
as  that  chicken  thief— and  as  to  there  being 

[319] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

two  ghosts  instead  of  one,  there  was  n't  a  sug 
gestion  of  it  brought  out  at  the  inquest." 

Terry  looked  at  him  with  his  usual  slowly 
broadening  smile.  He  opened  his  mouth  to 
say  something,  but  he  changed  his  mind  and 
—with  a  visible  effort — shut  it  again. 

"Terry,"  I  asked,  "how  did  you  find  out 
about  the  chicken  thief?  I  confess  I  don't 
understand  it  yet." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  laughed. 

"Nothing  simpler.  The  trouble  with  you 
people  was  that  you  were  searching  for  some 
thing  lurid,  and  the  little  common-place 
things  which,  in  a  case  like  this,  are  the  most 
suggestive,  you  overlooked.  As  soon  as  I 
read  the  story  of  the  crime  in  the  papers  I 
saw  that  in  all  probability  Rad  was  innocent. 
His  behavior  was  far  too  suspicious  for  him 
really  to  be  guilty;  unless  he  were  a  fool  he 
would  have  covered  up  his  tracks.  There  was 
of  course  the  possibility  that  Mose  had  com 
mitted  the  murder,  but  in  the  light  of  his  past 
devotion  to  the  Colonel  it  did  not  seem  likely. 

"I  had  already  been  reading  a  lot  of  sensa 
tional  stuff  about  the  ghost  of  Four-Pools, 

C320] 


MOSE  TELLS  HIS  STORY 

and  when  the  murder  followed  so  close  on  the 
heels  of  the  robbery,  I  commenced  to  look 
about  for  a  connecting  link.  It  was  evident 
that  Radnor  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  but 
whether  or  not  he  suspected  someone  was  not 
so  clear.  His  reticence  in  regard  to  the  ha'nt 
made  me  think  that  he  did.  I  came  South 
with  pretty  strong  suspicions  against  the 
elder  son,  but  with  a  mind  still  open  to  con 
viction.  The  telegram  showing  that  he  was 
in  Seattle  at  the  time  of  the  murder,  proved 
his  innocence  of  that,  but  he  might  still  be 
connected  with  the  ha'nt.  I  tried  the  sug 
gestion  on  Radnor,  and  his  manner  of  taking 
it  proved  pretty  conclusively  that  I  had 
stumbled  on  the  truth.  The  ha'nt  business, 
I  dare  say,  was  started  as  a  joke,  and  was 
kept  up  as  being  a  convenient  method  of 
warding  off  eavesdroppers.  Why  Jefferson 
came  back  and  why  Radnor  gave  him  money 
are  not  matters  that  concern  us ;  if  they  prefer 
to  keep  it  a  secret  that  's  their  own  affair. 

"Jeff  helped  himself  pretty  freely  to 
cigars,  roast  chickens,  jam,  pajamas,  books, 
brandy,  and  anything  else  he  needed  to 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

make  himself  comfortable  in  the  cabin,  but 
he  took  nothing  of  any  great  value.  In  the 
meantime,  though,  other  things  commenced 
disappearing— things  that  Radnor  knew  his 
brother  had  no  use  for— and  he  supposed  the 
workers  about  the  place  were  stealing  and 
laying  it  to  the  ghost,  as  a  convenient  scape 
goat. 

"But  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  were  not.  A 
second  ghost  had  appeared  on  the  scene.  This 
tramp  negro  had  taken  up  his  quarters  in  the 
spring-hole  and  was  prowling  about  at 
night  seeking  what  he  might  devour.  He 
ran  across  Jeff  dressed  in  a  sheet,  and  de 
cided  to  do  some  masquerading  on  his  own 
account.  Sheets  were  no  longer  left  on  the 
line  all  night,  so  he  had  to  put  up  with  lap 
robes.  As  a  result,  the  spring-hole  shortly 
became  haunted  by  a  jet  black  spirit  nine 
feet  tall  with  blue  flames  and  sulphur,  and  all 
the  other  accessories. 

"This  made  little  impression  at  the  house 
until  Mose  himself  was  frightened ;  then  Rad 
nor  saw  that  the  hoax  had  reached  the  point 
where  it  was  no  longer  funny,  and  he  deter- 

C322] 


MOSE  TELLS  HIS  STORY 

mined  to  get  rid  of  Jeff  immediately.  While 
he  drove  him  to  the  station  he  left  Mose  be 
hind  to  straighten  up  the  loft;  and  Mose, 
coming  into  the  house  to  put  some  things 
away,  met  ghost  number  two  just  after  he 
had  robbed  the  safe.  If  Mose's  eyes  looked 
as  they  did  to-day  I  fancy  the  fright  was 
mutual.  The  ghost,  in  his  excitement, 
dropped  one  package  of  papers,  but  bolted 
with  the  rest.  He  made  for  his  lair  in  the 
spring-hole  and  examined  his  booty.  The 
bonds  were  no  more  than  old  paper ;  he  tossed 
them  aside.  But  the  pennies  and  five-cent 
pieces  were  real ;  he  lit  out  for  the  village  with 
them.  The  robbery  was  not  discovered  till 
morning  and  by  that  time  the  fellow  was  at 
'Jake's  place'  on  his  way  toward  being  the 
drunkest  nigger  in  the  county. 

"He  stayed  at  the  Corners  a  week  or  so  until 
the  money  was  gone,  then  he  came  back  to 
the  spring-hole.  But  he  made  the  mistake 
of  venturing  out  by  daylight ;  the  stable-men 
caught  him  and  took  him  to  the  Colonel,  and 
you  know  the  rest. 

"As  soon  as  I  heard  the  story  of  the  beat- 

C323] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

ing  I  decided  to  follow  it  up;  and  when  I 
heard  of  a  jet  black  spirit  rising  from  the 
spring-hole,  I  decided  to  follow  that  up  too. 
At  daylight  this  morning  I  routed  out  one  of 
the  stable-men,  and  we  went  down  and  exam 
ined  the  spring-hole;  at  least  I  examined  it 
while  he  stood  outside  and  shivered.  It 
yielded  an  even  bigger  find  than  I  had  hoped 
for.  Chucked  off  in  a  corner  and  trampled 
with  mud  I  found  the  bonds.  A  pile  of  cloth 
ing  and  carriage  cushions  formed  a  bed. 
There  were  the  remains  of  several  fires  and 
of  a  great  many  chickens — the  whole  place 
was  strewn  with  feathers  and  bones;  he  had 
evidently  raided  the  roosts  more  than  once. 

"When  I  finished  with  the  spring-hole  it 
still  lacked  something  of  six  o'clock  and  I 
rode  over  to  the  village  hoping  to  get  an 
answer  to  my  telegram.  I  wanted  to  get 
Jeff's  case  settled.  'Miller's  store'  was  not 
open  but  'Jake's  place'  was,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  I  got  on  the  track  of  my  man. 
There  was  no  doubt  but  that  I  had  him  ac 
counted  for  up  to  the  time  of  the  thrashing; 
after  that  I  could  only  conjecture.  He  had 

[324  ] 


MOSE  TELLS  HIS  STORY 

not  appeared  in  the  village  again ;  the  suppo 
sition  was  that  he  had  taken  to  the  woods. 
Now  he  might  or  he  might  not  have  come  in 
the  direction  of  Luray.  All  the  facts  I  had  to 
go  upon  were,  a  man  of  criminal  proclivities, 
who  owed  Colonel  Gaylord  a  grudge,  and 
who  was  used  to  hiding  in  caves.  It  was  pure 
supposition  that  he  had  come  in  this  direction 
and  it  had  to  be  checked  at  every  point  by 
fact.  I  did  n't  mention  my  suspicions  be 
cause  there  was  no  use  in  raising  false  hopes 
and  because,  well— 

"You  wanted  to  be  dramatic,"  I  suggested. 

"Oh,  yes,  certainly,  that  's  my  business. 
Well,  anyway  I  felt  I  was  getting  warm,  and 
I  came  over  here  this  morning  with  my  eyes 
open,  ready  to  see  what  there  was  to  see. 

"The  first  thing  I  unearthed  was  this  story 
of  the  church  social  provisions.  There  had, 
then,  been  a  thief  of  some  sort  in  the  neigh 
borhood  just  at  the  time  of  Colonel  Gay- 
lord's  murder.  The  further  theft  of  the  boots 
fitted  very  neatly  into  the  theory.  If  the 
fellow  had  been  tramping  for  a  couple  of  days 
his  shoes,  already  worn,  had  given  out  and 

C325] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

been  discarded.  The  new  ones,  as  we  know, 
were  too  small — he  left  them  at  the  bottom 
of  the  pasture— and  went  bare-footed.  The 
marks  therefore  in  the  cave,  which  everyone 
ascribed  to  Mose,  were  in  all  probability,  not 
the  marks  of  Mose  at  all.  Actual  investiga 
tion  proved  that  to  be  the  case.  The  rest,  I 
think,  you  know.  The  Four-Pools  mystery 
has  turned  out  to  be  a  very  simple  affair— as 
most  mysteries  unfortunately  do." 

"I  reckon  you  're  a  pretty  good  detective, 
Mr.  Patten,"  said  Mattison  with  a  shade  of 
envy  in  his  voice. 

Terry  bowed  his  thanks  and  laughed. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  he  returned,  "I  am 
not  a  detective  of  any  sort — at  least  not 
officially.  I  merely  assume  the  part  once  in 
a  while  when  there  seems  to  be  a  demand. 
Officially,"  he  added,  "I  am  the  representa 
tive  of  the  New  York  Post-Dispatch,  a  paper 
which,  you  may  know,  has  solved  a  good 
many  mysteries  before  now.  In  this  case,  the 
Post-Dispatch  will  of  course  take  the  credit, 
but  it  wants  a  little  more  than  that.  It  wants 
to  be  the  only  paper  tomorrow  morning  to 

[326] 


MOSE  TELLS  HIS  STORY 

print  the  true  details.  We  four  are  the  only 
ones  who  know  them.  I  should,  perhaps,  have 
been  a  little  more  circumspect,  and  kept  the 
facts  to  myself,  but  I  knew  that  I  could  trust 

you." 

His  eye  dwelt  upon  the  sheriff  a  moment 
and  then  wandered  to  Pete  Moser  who  had 
sat  silently  listening  throughout  the  colloquy. 

"Would  it  be  too  much,"  Terry  inquired, 
"to  ask  you  to  keep  silent  until  tomorrow 
morning?" 

"You  can  trust  me  to  keep  quiet,"  said 
Mattison,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"Me  too,"  said  Moser.  "I  reckon  I  can 
make  up  something  that  '11  satisfy  the  boys 
about  as  well  as  the  real  thing." 

"Thank  you,"  Terry  said.  "I  guess  you 
can  all  right !  There  does  n't  seem  to  be  any 
thing  the  matter  with  your  imaginations 
down  here." 

"And  now,"  said  Mattison,  rising,  "I  sup 
pose  the  first  thing,  is  to  see  about  Radnor's 
release,  though  I  swear  I  don't  know  yet  what 
was  the  matter  with  him  on  the  day  of  the 
erime." 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

"I  believe  you  have  the  honor  of  Miss  Polly 
Mathers's  acquaintance?  Perhaps  she  will  en 
lighten  you,"  suggested  Terry. 

A  look  of  illumination  flashed  over  Matti- 
son's  face.  Terry  laughed  and  rose. 

"I  have  a  reason  for  suspecting  that  Miss 
Mathers  has  changed  her  mind  and,  if  it  is  not 
too  irregular,  I  should  like  by  way  of  pay 
ment  to  drive  her  to  the  Kennisburg  jail  my 
self  and  let  her  be  the  first  to  tell  him — I  want 
to  give  her  a  reason  for  remembering  me." 


C828] 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

POLLY  MAKES  A  PROPOSAL 

I  WAS  dropped  in  Kennisburg  to  attend 
to  the  legal  formalities  respecting  Rad 
nor's  release,  while  Terry  appropriated 
the  horses  and  drove  to  Mathers  Hall.  His 
last  word  to  Mattison  and  me  was  not  to 
let  a  whisper  reach  Radnor's  ear  as  to  the 
outcome  of  the  investigation.  He  wanted 
a  spectacular  denouement.  The  sheriff  as 
sented  very  soberly.  The  truth  had  at  last 
forced  itself  upon  him  that  his  chances  with 
Polly  were  over. 

Terry  reappeared,  two  hours  later,  with  a 
very  excited  young  woman  beside  him.  They 
joined  us  in  the  bare  little  parlor  of  the  jail, 
and  if  Mattison  needed  any  further  proof 
that  the  end  had  come,  Polly's  greeting  fur 
nished  it.  An  embarrassed  flush  rose  to  her 

C329] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

face  as  she  saw  him,  but  she  shook  hands  in 
a  studiously  impersonal  way  and  asked  im 
mediately  for  Radnor. 

Mattison  met  the  situation  with  a  dignity 
I  had  scarcely  expected.  He  called  a  deputy 
and  turned  us  over  to  him;  and  with  the  re 
mark  that  his  services  were  happily  no  longer 
needed,  he  bowed  himself  out.  I  saw  him 
two  minutes  later  recklessly  galloping  down 
the  street.  Polly's  eyes,  also,  followed  the 
rider,  and  for  a  second  I  detected  a  shade  of 
remorse. 

As  we  climbed  the  stairs  Terry  fell  back 
and  whispered  to  me,  "I  tell  you,  I  laid  down 
the  law  coming  over;  we  '11  see  if  she  's  game." 

As  the  door  of  the  cell  was  thrown  open, 
Rad  raised  his  head  and  regarded  us  with 
a  look  of  bewildered  astonishment.  Polly 
walked  straight  in  and  laid  her  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Radnor,"  she  said,  "you  told  me  you 
would  never  ask  me  again  to  marry  you.  Did 
you  really  mean  it?" 

Rad  still  stared  confusedly  from  her  to 
Terry  and  me. 

[330] 


POLLY  MAKES  A  PROPOSAL 

"Well!"  Polly  sighed.  "If  you  did  mean 
it,  then  I  suppose  I  '11  have  to  ask  you.  Will 
you  marry  me,  Radnor?" 

I  laid  a  hand  on  Terry's  arm  and  backed 
him,  much  against  his  will,  into  the  corridor. 

"Jove!  You  don't  suppose  he  's  going  to 
refuse  her?"  he  inquired  in  a  stage  whisper. 

"No  such  luck,"  I  laughed. 

We  took  a  couple  of  turns  up  and  down 
the  corridor  and  cautiously  presented  our 
selves  in  the  doorway.  Polly  was  telling,  be 
tween  laughing  and  crying,  the  story  of 
Mose's  discovery.  Radnor  came  to  meet  us, 
his  left  arm  still  around  Polly,  his  right  hand 
extended  to  Terry. 

"Will  you  shake  hands,  Patten?"  he  asked. 
"I  'm  afraid  I  was  n't  very  decent,  but  you 
know— 

"Oh,  that  's  no  matter,"  said  Terry,  easily. 
"I  was  n't  holding  it  up  against  you.  But  I 
hope  you  realize,  Gaylord,  that  it  's  owing  to 
me  you  Ve  won  Miss  Mathers.  She  never 
would  have  got  up  the  courage  to  ask  you, 
if-"  . 

"Yes,  I  should!"  flashed  Polly.    "I  wanted 

[SSI] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

him  too  much  ever  to  let  him  slip  through  my 
fingers  again." 

Terry's  boast  came  true  and  Radnor  dined 
at  Four-Pools  Plantation  that  night.  The 
news  of  his  release  had  in  some  way  preceded 
us,  and  as  we  drove  up  to  the  house,  all  the 
negroes  came  crowding  out  on  the  portico  to 
welcome  home  "young  Marse  Rad."  But 
the  one  person  who — whatever  the  circum 
stances — had  always  been  first  to  welcome 
him  back,  was  missing;  and  the  poor  boy  felt 
his  home-coming  a  very  barren  festival. 

Terry  was  steadfast  in  the  assertion  that 
he  had  an  engagement  in  New  York  the  next 
day,  and  as  soon  as  supper  was  over  I  drove 
him  to  the  station.  He  was  in  an  ecstatically 
self-satisfied  frame  of  mind. 

"Do  you  know  I  'm  a  pretty  all-round  fel 
low,"  he  observed  in  a  burst  of  confidence. 
"I  Ve  always  known  better  than  the  proprie 
tor  how  the  paper  ought  to  be  run,  and  I  can 
give  the  police  points  about  detective  work. 
I  'm  something  of  a  cook,  and  I  can  play  the 
hand-organ  like  Paderewski;  but  this  is  the 
first  time  I  ever  tried  my  hand  at  match- 

[3323 


POLLY  MAKES  A  PROPOSAL 

making  and  it  comes  as  easy  as  a  murder 
mystery!" 

"You  think  that  their  engagement  is  due  to 
you?" 

"But  is  n't  it?  If  it  were  n't  for  me  they  'd 
have  it  all  to  go  over  again  from  the  begin 
ning,  and  there  's  no  telling  how  long  they  'd 
take  about  it." 

"I  hope  they  appreciate  your  services,  Ter 
ry.  You  're  so  modest  that  what  you  do  is 
in  danger  of  being  overlooked." 

"They  appreciate  me  fast  enough,"  re 
turned  Terry,  imperturbably.  "I  promised 
Polly  to  spend  my  first  vacation  with  'em 
after  they  're  married — Oh,  you  '11  see;  I  '11 
make  a  farmer  one  of  these  days!" 

I  laughed  and  then  said  seriously: 

"Whether  you  made  the  marriage  or  not, 
you  have  cleared  Radnor's  name  from  any 
suspicion  of  dishonor,  and  I  don't  know  how 
we  can  ever  sufficiently  show  our  gratitude." 

"That  's  all  right,"  said  Terry  with  a 
deprecatory  wave  of  his  hand.  "I  enjoyed  it. 
Never  did  anything  just  like  it  before.  I  Ve 
arranged  a  good  many  funerals  of  one  sort  or 

C333] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

another,  but  this  is  the  first  time  I  ever  ar 
ranged  a  marriage.  And  Jove!  but  I  could 
make  a  story  out  of  it,"  he  added  regretfully, 
"if  she  'd  only  let  me  tell  the  truth." 

THE  events  which  I  have  chronicled  hap 
pened  a  number  of  years  ago,  and  Four-Pools 
has  never  since  figured  in  the  papers.  I  trust 
that  its  public  life  is  ended.  In  spite  of  the 
most  far-reaching  search,  the  murderer  of 
Colonel  Gaylord  was  never  found.  Radnor 
and  I  have  always  believed  that  he  was 
lynched  by  a  mob  in  West  Virginia  some  two 
years  later.  The  description  of  the  man  tal 
lied  exactly  with  the  appearance  of  the  tramp 
my  uncle  had  thrashed,  and  something  he 
said  in  his  ante-mortem  statement,  made  us 
very  sure  of  the  fact. 

Mose,  until  the  time  of  his  death,  was  an 
honored  member  of  the  household,  but  he  did 
not  long  outlive  the  Colonel.  The  memory 
of  the  tragedy  he  had  witnessed  seemed  to 
follow  him  constantly;  an  unreasoning  terror 
looked  from  his  eyes,  and  he  started  and  shiv 
ered  at  every  sound.  The  poor  fellow  had 

£3343 


POLLY  MAKES  A  PROPOSAL 

lost  what  few  wits  he  had  ever  possessed,  but 
the  one  rational  gleam  that  stayed  with  him 
to  the  end,  was  his  love  for  his  old  master. 
When  he  lay  dying,  Radnor  tells  me,  he 
roused  after  hours  of  unconsciousness,  to  call 
the  Colonel's  name.  I  have  always  felt  that 
this  devotion  spoke  equally  well  for  both  of 
them.  The  old  man  must  have  had  some 
splendid  traits  underneath  his  crusty  exterior 
to  awaken  such  unquestioning  love  in  a 
person  of  Mose's  instinctive  perceptions.  Per 
haps  after  all,  half  idiot  though  he  was,  Mose 
could  see  clearer  than  the  rest  of  us.  He  now 
lies  in  the  little  family  burying-ground  on  the 
edge  of  the  plantation,  a  stone's  throw  from 
the  grave  of  Colonel  Gaylord. 

There  has  never  been  any  further  rumor  of 
a  ha'nt  at  Four-Pools,  and  we  hope  that  the 
family  ghost  is  laid  forever.  The  deserted 
cabins  have  been  torn  down,  and  the  fourth 
pool  dredged  and  confined,  prosaically 
enough,  within  its  banks.  Its  mysterious 
charm  is  gone,  but  it  yields,  every  season, 
some  fifteen  barrels  of  watercress. 

It  was  the  following  April— a  year  from 

[335] 


THE  FOUR-POOLS  MYSTERY 

the  time  of  my  first  visit — that  Terry  and  I 
snatched  a  couple  of  days  from  our  work, 
purchased  new  frock  coats,  and  served  as 
ushers  at  Polly's  wedding.  She  and  Radnor 
have  been  living  happily  at  Four-Pools  ever 
since,  and  the  house  with  a  young  mistress  is 
a  very  different  place  from  the  house  as  it 
used  to  be.  Marriage  and  responsibility  have 
improved  Radnor  immensely.  He  has  devel 
oped  from  a  recklessly  headstrong  boy  into  a 
keen,  rational,  upright  man;  I  am  sure  that 
Polly  has  never  for  a  moment  had  cause  to 
regret  her  choice. 

When  the  estate  was  settled,  Radnor,  very 
justly,  insisted  on  breaking  his  father's  will 
and  giving  to  Jeff  his  rightful  share  of  the 
property.  Jeff  has  since  become  middle-aged 
and  respectable.  He  owns  a  raisin  ranch  in 
southern  California  with  fifty  Chinamen  to 
run  it.  When  he  comes  back  to  Four-Pools 
Plantation  on  an  occasional  visit,  he  occupies 
the  guest  room. 


C336] 


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